


Cursed OR The Consequences of Surviving

by calic0kitt3n (calico_kitten)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Curses, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Hermione Granger-centric, Lecherous Lucius Malfoy, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Search for a Cure, Sexual Harassment, Slow Burn, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:37:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24520150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calico_kitten/pseuds/calic0kitt3n
Summary: Sparks fly when Antonin Dolohov accidentally touches Hermione Granger's skin during the Battle of Hogwarts and it changes his priorities. And invades her dreams. A protective Draco intervenes and changes the game!EWE Dubcon!!! This is your warning for the entire work!
Relationships: Antonin Dolohov/Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 33
Kudos: 133





	1. From a Small Spark

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a one shot, but the prompting of a few people got the proverbial gears turning and suddenly this turned into an actual story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story begins at the Battle of Hogwarts and a chance meeting between Antonin Dolohov and Hermione Granger where sparks fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter or the wizarding world and wrote this little bit of fiction for fun. It was influenced by various other Dolohov tales. No intellectual infringement is intended.

The battle was raging all about Hermione. She found herself dueling sometimes two Death Eaters at a time. One chased her, leaving her to fire spells over her shoulder as she searched for cover. She fired off a Stupefy that finally hit the mark when she slammed into something. Or someone, as it turned out, who grabbed her by the wrist. Magic fizzled strangely between them as discomfort marked her face and her eyes looked into the shocked visage of Antonin Dolohov. 

"You," they both wheezed.

He let go and immediately regretted it.

Hermione scurried backward like a startled mouse, her brown eyes huge with fright and... something else. Dolohov advanced toward her in long strides, wand surprisingly down, and she felt herself back into a wall. She raised her wand but Dolohov was faster, gripping her wand arm and pinning it to the wall.

"Now, little rabbit, we will find out what _that_ was all about, hmm?"

"Let me go, you loathsome man!"

"Ah but don't you want to know what just happened? Shall we test it again?"

He slid his grip down to her wrist to once again make contact with her skin and she gasped. The bizarre magical reaction between them immediately made her warm, from her fingertips to... no.. it's best not to allow that, she mentally concluded and squeezed her thighs together.

His low laugh at her reaction made her squirm against him. Goosebumps prickled her skin.

"Very.. interesting.." he whispered along her ear. "Show me your scar, little rabbit."

"W-what scar?" she stammered.

"You know of which I speak," he murmured.

Somewhere in the distance someone screamed and Hermione suddenly remembered where they were. She attempted to free her wand arm, but he only laughed.

"The scar, little one. My signature."

"You seem proud of it," she glowered.

"You survived it, so I am not so proud." He narrowed his eyes. "Don't trifle with me, girl. I could kill you without a wand right now and no one would be the wiser. So. Where is your scar?"

'It's.." She looked away. "It's on my stomach."

"There now. Was that so difficult?" he purred. Pinning her with his leg, he reached with his free hand and ripped open her robes.

She screamed, partially in anger, partially in hopes that someone would hear her.

A disturbing smile crossed his face.

"That's fine, little rabbit, I don't mind if you scream. In fact, I prefer it."

Her eyes grow wider.

"You sick bastard. Now let me go so that I can kill you!"

"I'd expect nothing less from someone I've tried to kill twice. In fact, you could say that it's a small mercy that I haven't killed you already just now. Now cooperate or I might have to get nasty."

Fear flickered in her eyes.

He immediately went back to work, opened her robe and slid her blouse up to find the starburst that crisscrossed her abdomen.   
"A thing of beauty," he muttered as he moved his hand from her blouse to her skin. When his finger touched the center of her scar, a strange moan escaped her lips. He broke contact with her scar and blinked in shock. Her cheeks grew red and she bit down on her bottom lip.

A crooked smile played upon his face.

"Delightful."

"Don't you dare touch me again!"

"Oh I think I shall..." he hummed and touched the center of her scar again.

She wriggled beneath his grasp, but not in the same way as earlier.

He pushed his forehead against hers to prevent her from looking away. "Your heart is racing, little rabbit. But now you are burning up instead of afraid. What does this mean?"

He chuckled when she didn't respond.

"I feel it, too. I think I shall attempt to live to play another day. Feel free to miss me." He winked and let go of her arm, but before she could react, he quickly stunned her and disappeared into the fray.

Hermione searched during the rest of the battle, hoping to catch a glimpse of Dolohov. But when he isn't among the captured Death Eaters nor among the dead, she felt in the pit of her stomach that it was far from over.

* * *

Two years passed. Dolohov remained on the Aurors wanted list, but every trail of clues seemed to grow cold. Hermione finished her N.E.W.T.s and pursued a career in Magical Law Enforcement, hoping to one day become a solicitor for the Ministry. Often she took a stroll in muggle London after her training shifts to escape the press and be anonymous. At first she was paranoid. Constant vigilance. But as the months ticked by, she became more and more comfortable in her "new" surroundings.

It was now summer and she had just finished her last week of training. It had been a long day, so she opted to take a stroll along the Thames to unwind. The area was crowded with tourists craning their necks to see various buildings as they hurried on their way to dinner reservations. As she pushed her way through the throng, her hand accidentally bumped someone else's and a strange jolt ran through her. She looked about for the person to apologize and found her eyes connected with the familiar pewter stare of Antonin Dolohov. 

"Little rabbit," he leered and quickly disappeared into the crowd.

That night Hermione fretted about, trying to decide if it was worth telling anyone and what that might mean for her personally. She had sworn off all Ministry-related work and the last thing she needed were Aurors shuttling her to and from work. After all, he didn't *do* anything. And trying to explain running into him in a crowd in muggle London, well... no, it wasn't worth fretting about, she concluded.

That night she had strange dreams about the wizard. Much like she did the last time they'd touched. Only this time there weren't screams of fighting in the distance while his lips searched hers. This time they were alone and she melted in his embrace. And if she were honest with herself, this wasn't the only recent dream she'd had of him.

  
She awoke in the morning and tried to quickly put the dream behind her. There was a ministry event that evening that she was forced to attend as a member of the Golden Trio. She detested the very idea, but ultimately it was for a good cause: a charity event to support the children whose lives were drastically impacted by the war. As if she were barely more than a child when she fought in it, she huffed to herself.

She pulled on a short black dress with a flared skirt, flirty but not ostentatious and dug about in her wardrobe for her favorite heels, adding a cushioning charm to make them more bearable for the long evening on her feet. 

She smiled and shook hands all evening, drinking enough champagne to carry her through. She made her excuses at the end of the night and felt herself slowly relax as she walked the block home from the apparition point to her apartment. She was putting her key in the lock when she felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.

"Found you, rabbit. Are you going to run?"

"Why are you here?" she hissed, wheeling around and pulling her wand out. She was glad that it was late and her muggle neighbors were already likely sleeping.

"No need for that, you know," Dolohov smiled. "You could invite me in for a tea like a polite hostess?"

"Except that you have shown up UN-invited," she snarled, wand poking into his chest.

"My, wouldn't want to alarm the muggles by making a scene, would you?" He smirked knowingly and she quickly checked her temper.

"Alright, get inside, Dolohov, but I'm warning you - no funny business. And you'd better explain why I shouldn't call the Aurors. They've been looking everywhere for you."

She locked the door quickly as they entered, never once turning her back to him. The door to her apartment opened straight into the kitchen and he settled down on a bar stool at the island, his apparent ease making her unnerved.

"Tea?" she quipped as she made her way past him, keeping an eye firmly in his direction.

"If you don't mind," he smirked.

She huffed and put the kettle on, quickly getting out two mugs and her tin of black tea. "Milk or sugar?"

"Just milk, I'm already sweet enough."

She rolled her eyes.

"Why are you here, Dolohov? Couldn't get me out of your mind since yesterday?"

"Now now, no questions until after tea. You were doing so well, let's not break the rules of politeness just yet, hmm?"

She placed the mug in front of him with a frown.

"You barge into MY house and try to tell me I'm being rude?"

"Mmmm, I like it when you get angry, rabbit. I can feel the energy crackling around you." His eyes danced infuriatingly. She counted slowly to ten while she waited for him to take a drink of his tea. He merely winked and took a slow sip.

"Ahh, there now," he drawled. "So to be precise, how long has it been now? Over two years? I have not stopped thinking of you for a single day. I've tried, little rabbit. Tried but failed. And when you touched me yesterday, I decided that I needed to face it."

"Face... it?" she replied feebly.

"Our magic. It's woven together in that scar you wear. You felt it, too, yeah?"

"I felt... something," she confessed before taking a drink from her steaming mug.

"It was more than something, wasn't it? When I had you against the castle walls and you writhed at my touch? I think it was not all in disgust, hmm?"

Her mind briefly flashed to her dream the night before and her cheeks darkened.

"So. It is true." He quirked an eyebrow and a little half-smile tugged at his mouth. "The Golden Girl and the Death Eater. Has a nice ring to it."

She quickly frowned. "I hate that name and there's nothing going on between you and I. There can't be."

He shrugged, still smiling. "Perhaps. Though you know the truth."

"Surely this has happened to you before."

"No, you are the first. In fact, everyone else has died from that curse, so it would be difficult to test, no?"

"Why are you here, Dolohov?"

"You know why I'm here, little rabbit." He rose suddenly and walked around the bar to her before she could grab her wand which she had carelessly left on the counter, grabbing her wrists and pushing her back against the refrigerator. Her skin buzzed where it touched his and her eyes blew wide.

"Tell me then," he practically growled. "Tell me that you don't feel that. Tell me that you don't want more."

"I- I don't want it. Stop it!" she pleaded insincerely.

"You lie!"

She cowered at his raised voice and he checked himself before continuing, changing tactics. 

"You are... afraid. You're feeling cornered by a strong wizard who you've learned to hate and yet your body is crying out for something... else," he whispered along her jaw. "Is it not?" he murmured, ghosting his lips along her skin while he shifted one of her wrists to join the other in a firm grasp, freeing his other hand.

A soft whine escaped her mouth.

"Yes, I feel it, too. I want to know more. Feel more." His deft fingers crept along her thin dress to where he knew he'd find her scar and she gasped.

"Mmm, like that, yes. Imagine what would happen if.."

Hermione was struggling to think straight. It was like a drug, forbidden and yet too delicious to ignore. Her whole body was beginning to sing from his touch and if she could only get a bit more.. She wriggled as his knee slid her legs apart, making her dress ride up. Damned ministry function making her wear a damned cocktail dress went it isn't _safe_ , she thinks.

"Not safe," she murmured aloud.

"Oh I never claimed to be safe," he purred along her neck, assuming she was talking about him.

"Not you, the dress," she groggily replied.

He chuckled.

"I find that I'm rather fond of this one." His hand slid downward to the edge of her skirt and quickly sought out the soft skin of her thigh making her buck beneath him. With a grin, his fingertips inched higher until he could feel the lines of the scar that marred her beautiful stomach.

"Merlin," she swore at a whisper. "I... I can't... not you..." she whined as he traced her scar, making his way to the center. "Fuck!" This time she'd practically shouted.

"Found it," he smirked. "Relax, rabbit. I'm not here to eat you. Well, not like that anyway."

Her eyes clouded momentarily in confusion as brown eyes met grey.

"You don't really want me to stop, do you? If you tell me clearly to stop, I will. But if not..."

"D-dolohov.." she squeaked out.

"Call me Antonin."

"An...antonin.."

"Yes, my little rabbit?"

"Why?"

He smirked. "Why not? Don't you want to know what will happen if I do more of.. this?" He put his whole palm over her curse mark now and she bit her lip hard to hold in her panting.

"I know that you're curious. As am I."

"I...." 

"And lucky me, you've grown up to be such a pretty little thing."

She looked genuinely surprised at his admission.

"Any wizard would be grateful that you even looked his way, _Hermione,_ " trying out her given name in his mouth and finding that he liked it. "Let alone writhe from his touch."

A whine escaped her lips as her tongue flicked across them, a reaction that he did not miss.

"Oh yes, quite.. quite lucky," he sighed before pressing his lips against hers in a kiss that quickly deepened with ardor. Because to Dolohov's great pleasure, she kissed him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	2. The Trouble with Lucius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is forced to ask for help from someone she'd rather never see again. He proves to be every bit as awful as she remembered. Maybe worse now that he's not as hateful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> With the encouragement of a few people, I decided to turn my one shot into an actual story. That means including some other characters, which I hope you enjoy! I can't guarantee how often updates will be posted, so thank you for your patience. :D

She couldn't believe that she flipping _kissed Dolohov back_.

It had been 6 days since it happened and Hermione Granger was still livid with herself.

She mindlessly stirred her coffee while she thought it through.

"It's all because of that stupid curse!" she grumped to Crookshanks, her half-kneazle who listened with polite indifference. Thankfully a few minutes into kissing Dolohov, Harry had suddenly arrived by floo and Dolohov quickly ran from the room before he could be recognised. She heard the distant crack of his disapparition from another room as she came to her senses. But then she found herself making some excuse to Harry about what she was doing, standing awkwardly against the wall and still in shock about the whole thing.

"Shocking indeed," she muttered wryly. Dear Merlin, what was all that about?! She assumed the man was long gone and had finally shoved the whole thing from their previous encounter to the back of her mind, but there he was again, looming large in the shadows of her mind. Her mind suddenly made up, she decided that research was the best antidote.

On her way to her office in the DMLE that morning, she made a few inquiries in the Auror department. Around 11, a folder about Dolohov was plopped onto her desk by a curious Draco Malfoy.

"Think he's still around, do you?"

"I doubt it, since no one has seen him. But I want to learn about the curse he hit me with," she cautiously explained.

"Mmm. Well let me know if I can be of any help. Although, you know who would probably know more about it than me, yeah?"

Their eyes met and she made a face.

"I doubt seriously that your father would be interested in helping me."

Draco shrugged. "He's still a right bastard, but helping the Golden Girl wouldn't hurt his press."

She snorted. "If I'm desperate, I'll let you know."

Draco laughed. "Yeah, alright. Cheers, Granger."

Hermione sat there pondering as she leafed through the folder, looking for any information about the curses that Dolohov invented. About 10 pages in, she found what she was looking for. But.. unfortunately because no one else had ever survived this particular curse, there was little known about it. She chewed her bottom lip and knew deep down that she probably _was_ going to have to ask Lucius Malfoy for help. She cringed just thinking about it. A year after the war trials were over and Lucius was placed on strict house arrest for a period, Narcissa left him for the arms of an Italian wizard and for a brief time Hermione actually found herself feeling sorry for the man. But in truth he remained a snob and a difficult person to get along with. She was grateful that he was ineligible to resume any work at the Ministry.

Considering her options, she decided to first contact Minerva McGonagall that evening. There was always the possibility that the Hogwarts library would have something for her to go on and, as a Ministry official, she could search the Restricted Section without problem.

To her delight, Minerva invited her to come around on Saturday for tea and unrestricted access to the library. It was already Thursday, so she wouldn't have long to wait.

* * *

On Saturday afternoon, Hermione found herself pacing her flat, fingers itching to peruse leather-bound spines and leaf though fragile pages.

Tea with the Headmistress was a joy as usual, though Hermione remained a bit cagey in explaining her current dilemma. With the gentle care of an old friend, Minerva nodded sympathetically in the right places and then left Hermione to search the enormous library to her heart's content. She managed to find 3 potentially useful volumes that she had to sign a waiver for in order to take them home and, with profuse thanks, hurried to the comfort of her favorite wingback at home to properly search through the heavy tomes. She pored over them the rest of the weekend, but, while they mentioned secondary effects of curses, nothing seemed to match with her own experience. Merlin, she was going to have to talk to Draco again after all. Not that she minded Draco these days. He was courteous to a fault and bloody brilliant at his job. No, it wasn't Draco that she minded. It was his father. Lucius Malfoy had managed to remain the same pompous git she'd always known and he would surely be pleased to have Hermione Granger, the up and coming star of the DMLE and Golden Girl of the wizarding world, on his doorstep in need of help. It was going to be utterly humiliating, she was sure of it.

She locked up her office at the end of the day on Monday and forced her feet to take the path to Draco's office. He smirked when he saw her.

"Why do you look like a woman just sentenced to the Kiss, Granger? You get stood up this weekend?"

Ok, correction, Draco was reformed, but he still liked to press her buttons sometimes.

"For your information, I didn't have a date this weekend. I went and had tea with Minerva."

"Well, that's enough to destroy anyone's morale."

She rolled her eyes. "As much as I detest the idea, I need you to talk to your father."

Draco's eyes crinkled up as he grinned.

"You look like a dog eating thestral shite, Malfoy. It's not a good look on you."

He guffawed.

"I'll talk to him tonight, Granger."

"Brilliant," she muttered, promptly leaving before she could change her mind.

* * *

Three nights later, Hermione was getting ready for bed when a gorgeous grey owl began pecking at her bedroom window. She let him in and rummaged to find a bit of a biscuit. The owl promptly refused her offering and sat there staring with large impatient eyes. She huffed and found some little fluted Italian biscuits from the kitchen, which the snobbish beast finally accepted. He'd brought a letter that was on thick ivory parchment.

'Miss Granger' was inscribed in deep blue ink, the fine script belying its author. The Malfoy seal on the other side left no room for doubt. The owl flew away while she opened the missive.

_'Miss Granger,_

_My son has made me aware that you have need of information that perhaps I can be of service to supply. I would be happy to help in whatever way I can, provided that you do a little something for me in return. Please arrive at the Manor on Friday at 9pm to discuss this matter in person. I assure you of my discretion and request that you offer the same courtesy._

_-L.'_

She huffed in frustration at the idea of spending her Friday evening with Lucius Malfoy, but she was feeling desperate. That night she had strange dreams involving Dolohov which made her blush upon awakening. A cold shower and decent breakfast later, she felt functional enough to go to work, though she opted to take lunch in her office to avoid accidentally telling anyone where she'd be that night. All was going fine until Draco popped in his head in the door around 4 o'clock.

"I heard you're going to be at the Manor tonight, Granger." His grin was irritating.

"I never replied," she clipped.

"You and I both know that you're going. So does my father."

"Whatever, yes, I'm going. So can you leave me alone now?"

"Yeah, alright. But if you get bored with old Lucius, feel free to come to my room." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Merlin, Malfoy, get over yourself. I'm doing nothing unsavory tonight."

"Who said it would be unsavory? I've heard that I'm rather delicious."

"I'm not one of your brainless bints, Malfoy. And perhaps I'd rather have someone who has been.. less sampled."

He gave a good hearty laugh. "That's why I like you, Granger. Your rapport is always brilliant."

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips despite her feeling quite ruffled.

"I'd like you better, Malfoy, if you didn't chat up every woman in the Ministry under the age of 50."

"Why? Want me all to yourself?"

She hurled a paperweight in his direction and he promptly slammed the door behind him. He heard the smash at it hit the wooden door and chuckled. She made herself such an easy target, he mused with a grin.

"Irritating Miss Granger again?" a secretary outside the office quipped.

"One of my favourite pastimes since childhood, you know. Only now she only throws paperweights at me. She throws a mean right hook, you know." He gave the woman a serious look.

"No offense, Mr. Malfoy, but you probably deserved it." She was a cheeky thing. Leave it to Hermione to have a secretary who put things bluntly.

"Well, I was a proper prat back then. Now it's all in fun." He shrugs and gives her a wink before walking away, whistling. He wasn't sure why he liked winding Hermione up so much, but it did make his day more colourful in ways that policing the wizarding world did not. In a world that often seemed tinged with grey, Hermione Granger was like a fireball, he surmised. He couldn't wait to see how her little meeting with Lucius would go.

* * *

She arrived at the Manor promptly at 9pm, her business casual attire a bit creased from the long day. She found herself attempting to smooth the wrinkles from her pencil skirt while a chipper elf named Whinge showed her to Lucius's study. Behind a massive oak desk, Lucius Malfoy was busy poring over ledgers while wearing.. reading glasses? He looked up when she approached.

"Ah, Miss Granger," he purred. She suddenly felt like she was in a cage staring at a tiger. She licked her lips nervously.

"Mr. Malfoy," she replied evenly.

"Do sit down," he gestured at the chair opposite his desk. "Whinge, bring us some tea and some of those chocolate biscuits." The elf nodded and disappeared with a *pop*. "Now, do tell me what it is that I can help you with." His fingers were steepled before him while he looked at her over his glasses.

"I'm researching the side effects of curses, you see."

"Interesting. Go on."

"I can't seem to find anything about a particular side effect."

"Surely at the Ministry or... have you tried Hogwarts?"

"I have but haven't found the right information. And so I was curious if you might have a useful book. Draco said that you might."

At that moment the elf reappeared with the tea things. Hermione was grateful for the disruption as she was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the way Lucius was looking at her.

"What sort of curse are we talking about?" he asked as he served her tea. He pushed the plate of biscuits her way as well.

"As you probably know, I was hit by a curse from Dolohov several years ago."

"Ah, so this is.. personal." The corners of his lips curled up before he took a sip of tea.

"Yes, so if you could, as you mentioned, be discreet.."

"Discretion is second nature for me," he assured her with a gleam in his eye. "But my help doesn't come free, of course."

"I never assumed as much, Mr. Malfoy. But just what would you expect in return?" Her voice nearly became a squeak at the end. She cleared her throat and then spoke more firmly. "Name your price."

"Fear not, Miss Granger, it's nothing out of your... price range." He smirked.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "No need to stoop to insults."

"Is it insulting if it's the truth?" Her face darkened in anger and embarrassment and he held up a hand. "But before you decide to stab me with one of your quills, little porcupine, let me explain what I am asking."

"Go on," she glowered.

"Malfoy Industries will be hosting a fundraising gala in 3 weeks time. I would require your presence there _and_ your endorsement. Just a 2 minute speech."

"What are you raising money for?"

"A new program concerning some prison reforms. I'm sure you have heard about them in the DMLE."

She thought it over. She _had_ heard the about the reforms in a recent meeting and had mixed feelings about them though she agreed that reforms were needed. Even more, she hated these sort of events, but if he could solve her little problem...

"How about this. If I'm successful in helping you, you agree to help me. If I can't help you, you must be at my fundraiser, but no speech required."

She thought about it for a moment.

"You have a deal, Mr. Malfoy."

"So then... tell me about this curse."

She reminded him of what happened in the Department of Mysteries - "As if I could forget," he huffed - and the treatment that Madame Pomfrey gave her for the curse.

"You mentioned side effects?"

She felt her face grow red.

"I... I'd rather not talk about it. It's rather personal."

"I can't help you if I don't know what the problem is," he leered, suddenly far more interested.

"Well, it's awkward to talk about."

"Come over here and show me the scar then."

"But..."

"Come, girl, I'm not going to hurt you. And you don't have anything I haven't seen."

She blanched at his crass remark, but sighed in resignation, walking around the massive desk. She unbuttoned her jacket, placed it next to the tea things, and untucked her blouse. Lucius's silver eyes gleamed eagerly. For what, he didn't know, but he wasn't going to even risk blinking. She lifted her blouse, having a care to fully show her scar without also showing her unmentionables.

It was a lovely scar in his eyes, though seeing it on a lithe little body wasn't so bad either. Hermione might be muggle born, but if everyone suddenly was privy to what was going on under her all-business blouses, well... He stopped his thoughts there and when back to studying the scar. It criss-crossed her midsection leaving fine lines that would likely never fade.

"It's a wonder you're still here, you know. It's right next to your heart."

"I'm aware, thanks. May I put my blouse down now?"

"No, not just yet. May I.. touch you, Miss Granger? I promise to do nothing that would make you uncomfortable."

"Too late for that," she muttered.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," he said softly and placed a large hand on her side, his thumb tracing the axis of the lines that formed her scar. To her great relief, nothing out of the ordinary happened.

"You said there are side-effects?" He continued to caress her skin and her cheeks bloomed in sudden heat.

"Y-yes. Can you please stop that?"

He stopped with a smirk, pulling her blouse down for her, not caring if he might have touched the edge of her brassiere.

"Must you really be such an insufferable arse?" she huffed, going back to her chair, safely away from the man on the other side.

"No harm done, hmm?"

"I should just hex you and leave!"

"Ah, but then you wouldn't have your answers," he tutted. "So, about the side effects?"

"It's only.. only around Dolohov, it seems."

"Well he's long gone, so I don't know what you're worried about." He paused and looked at her strangely.

"Or have you seen him lately?"

"I.. well.. we accidentally bumped into one another a couple of weeks ago."

"Where?" he asked in alarm.

"In London. Muggle London," she clarified. "And then.. he ambushed me at my flat the night after the Ministry gala."

"You called the Aurors, then, did you not?"

"No.. no, I.. we had tea."

"Tea with Dolohov," he sniggered. "And why would he show up at your flat?"

"Curiosity, he said." She shifted uneasily in her chair.

He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to say more.

"At the Battle of Hogwarts, we ran into one another. Literally. And when his skin touched mine, something happened."

"Such as?"

"I can't bear it when he touches me." She shuddered, but a blush crept back into her cheeks.

"At all?"

"Well, as long as he doesn't touch my skin."

"I see. And why not?"

"It makes me feel.. warm."

"And what happens when he touches your scar?" he asked softly.

"Merlin, I don't want to talk about this!" she whined.

"What happens, Miss Granger?"

"I.. the last time he did it, I nearly had an orgasm." Humiliation complete, she couldn't bring herself to look up from her lap.

Lucius smiled like a shark about to feast.

"And then what happened?"

"Harry flooed in, interrupting.. things.. and Dolohov ran away."

"Oh this is _good_ ," he smirked.

"It's not!"

"Well, it's not in the sense that I've never heard of this sort of thing happening before. But it's no wonder that he's curious." He eyed her up again.

"Are you going to help me or not?" she asked petulantly.

"Yes, of course. I'll do some research during the next several says and let you know what I find."

"So.. that's it? No books for me to read?"

"You go to work during the week, do you not? I work from home and not nearly as many hours as you. Though I could arrange for you to come by and look through my library yourself if that suits you."

"I would like that, thank you."

"Very well, let me know which day you can take off and I'll accommodate you."

"Take off?"

"Dear girl, I have more than just a few shelves of books. You'll need at least a day just to get your bearings."

The thought of so many books had her pulse racing. "Alright, I will owl as soon as I can."

He called for Whinge to lead her back to the front door while she pulled her jacket back on.

They were only down the hall when Draco popped out from behind a corner grinning cheekily.

"Leaving without letting me have a turn?"

"Draco Malfoy!" she screeched.

"Only taking the piss, Granger. Anyway, I'm not sure I'm up for sharing with my old man." He cackled and hurried away before she could hex him.

"Hmm, and what does Draco think we were doing?" Lucius purred suddenly in her ear from behind. Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked louder than necessary.

"I assure you, Miss Granger, had I wanted to... touch you again... you would have said 'yes'." He moved away to face her. "I'll be awaiting your owl." He bowed curtly and watched her nervously walk away.


	3. You're a Patient Man, Dolohov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione takes some time off to solve the mystery of her curse scar. Antonin refuses to leave her alone. What will she do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction. 

On Monday, Hermione checked in with the head of the DMLE to vaguely explain her need to take some time off and, after being reminded that she'd been encouraged to take a vacation for months, she gratefully took her boss up on it. Beginning on Wednesday, she was going to have a whole 3 weeks off. She broke the news to her friends at lunch who were pleased to hear she was taking some time off.  
  
"So what are you going to do, Mione?" asked Ron.  
  
"Oh, you know, work on some personal projects."  
  
"Hermione, I thought the whole point was to _not_ work," nudged Harry.  
  
"Well.. you know.. it's something just for me, so it's not really work."  
  
"What's that I hear, Granger?" Draco Malfoy had just joined their table. "Taking a little vacation?"  
  
"Just some time off." She gave him a pointed look that made him rethink mentioning her recent visit to the Manor.  
  
"Well, if anyone deserves a break, it's you," he said politely and she offered him a grateful smile in return.  
  
The conversation then turned to office politics and a recap of Ron's weekend at the Canons match, which Hermione slowly tuned out. She excused herself a few minutes before the end of lunch to find an owl to send the small note she'd already penned and carried in the pocket of her robes.  
  
The rest of the day and the next were spent organizing before her absence, all the proposals currently unfinished, upcoming trials, piles of things to be filed.  
  
On Tuesday afternoon Lucius's owl delivered a letter requesting her to arrive the next day at 9am. She didn't bother to reply. Upon arriving home, she found a bottle of rosé wine with a tiny card on her table.   
  
"Homenum Revelio," she whispered in alarm. To her relief, there was no one in her flat.  
  
She then checked the wine bottle and card for magical residue, but found nothing. When she picked up the small card, "Little Rabbit" was written on it in small print. Nothing else. But how she wanted to run.  
  


* * *

  
Hermione usually didn't have panic attacks. She was frightfully logical. So when she found herself struggling to breathe, she could only think of one place to go: Malfoy Manor.  
  
She clutched tightly at her bag, stepped into the floo, and rolled onto the Manor floor in a cloud of soot, unconscious.  
  
Draco was in his study considering a shower when the squeal of overexcited elves alerted him to the fact that something was amiss. He hurried to where they indicated and found the one and only Hermione Granger lying on the floor.  
  
"Shite," he growled.  
  
"Whinge, get some water and smelling salts. Snicker, get a blanket."  
  
The elves hurried to their tasks as he rolled her onto her back. His first fear was for the worst. A sickening feeling crept over him as their shared previous nightmares flashed before his eyes. A quick diagnostic spell revealed that her heart rate was a little elevated, but nothing was broken and she certainly wasn't dead. Sharpish, he wrapped her in the blanket, sat her up in his arms and took the proffered smelling salts, waving them in front of her nose. When she came to, she squinted and held her head.  
  
"You know Granger, if you wanted in my arms this badly, you could have just asked."  
  
"Prat," she grumbled.  
  
"Well, if you can grouse at me, that means you're thinking clearly again. What happened?"  
  
She shook her head. "I need to talk to your father."  
  
"Snicker," he called to the elf hovering by the doorway. "Get Master Lucius,"  
  
With a *pop* he was gone. A few minutes later, Lucius Malfoy strode into the room in his favorite deep green silk dressing gown and matching silk trousers. His eyes locked with Hermione's and she suddenly tried to shake herself from Draco's grasp.   
  
"Miss Granger, what a surprise," he drawled.  
  
"I'm sorry to drop in unannounced, but I didn't know where else to go."  
  
Lucius and Draco exchanged a glance.  
  
"What happened?" Lucius asked at last.  
  
"He.. he came back."  
  
"He hurt you?"  
  
"No, I mean.. he left me something. On my table."  
  
"And you spooked."  
  
"Well, yes. My wards were in place and nothing seemed wrong but then I came in and saw the rosé and the note.."  
  
"Granger, who is leaving you bottles of wine, hmm?" Draco cut in.  
  
She swallowed nervously.  
  
"You have to swear not to tell."  
  
"You can trust me."   
  
"It was.. it was Dolohov."  
  
His eyebrows shot up and he looked again at his father who seemed unsurprised.  
  
"Father? You knew?"  
  
"It seems he is interested in Miss Granger and stopped by a few weeks ago to pay her a visit."  
  
"Why weren't the Aurors notified? Why did you lie about the file?" He looked at Hermione, slightly hurt.  
  
"He didn't hurt me. It's ok. But I don't like him coming into my house if I'm not there."  
  
"What do you bloody mean it's ok?" Draco started to shout. "He's supposed to be in Azkaban and you..." he paused and looked at her suspiciously. "Why didn't you turn him in?"  
  
"I-"  
  
"He's blackmailing her, Draco. She can't turn him in without first solving her little problem."  
  
"And that's why you needed to see my Father," he concluded.  
  
She gave a feeble nod.  
  
"You should stay here tonight," Lucius decrees.  
  
"Father's right, Granger."  
  
"I didn't bring anything-"  
  
Draco cuts her off. "Look, I'll go back with you and you can get what you need. But you're staying here tonight. You can stay in one of the guest suites."   
  
"That's very kind, both of you. Are you quite sure, though?"  
  
"Yes," they said together.  
  
"We'll go when you're ready, then."  
  


* * *

  
Hermione woke in the morning surprisingly rested. She was stretching when Snicker the elf popped in to inquire if she'd like breakfast.  
  
She agreed that was a fine idea and quickly got ready so as to follow the wizened elf downstairs.  
  
After an unhurried breakfast, Lucius led her as promised to the library, though he left her at the door citing that he would be in his study if she needed him. When she opened the decorated wooden door, her eyes were not disappointed. Shelves stretched from floor to vaulted ceiling, rolling ladders dotting the various levels to reach the highest shelves. The floor was covered in enormous thick Persian rugs and varied seating through the room promised a comfortable place to curl up and read. An enormous fireplace of white stone was the only large break between the shelves and wall sconces every few feet ensured proper lighting. Hermione inhaled and the calming scent of old paper greeted her nostrils. Hermione pinched herself to make sure she was truly awake. Ensured that she wasn't dreaming, she began scouring the shelves, hardly knowing where to begin.

When Lucius came back to get her for lunch, she was on a ladder reading the spines of some old leathery volumes otherwise out of reach.  
  
"Is it to your liking?" he inquired. She jerked at the sudden sound and looked down to see Lucius peering up at her from the foot of the ladder. Which would have been less disconcerting if she weren't also wearing a skirt.  
  
"Do you mind?" she hissed.  
  
"No, actually, I don't," he smirked.  
  
"Well maybe I do, so move along. Now I know where your son gets it," she barked as she climbed down the ladder.  
  
 _'He laughed. He actually laughed, the bastard!'_ she thought to herself.  
  
"Listen Mr. Malfoy-"

"Lucius," he corrected her.

"If I have to call you Lucius, then I insist that you call me Hermione instead of Miss Granger," she snarked. "Anyway, if I didn't have to be here, I wouldn't."  
  
"I'm sure you wouldn't, _Hermione_." He made sure to emphasize her name. "But it's quite enjoyable to watch you squirm." He quirked his eyebrow, sure that his double meaning wasn't lost on her.  
  
She flushed and pushed past him.  
  
"Lunch will be in the garden," he called after her. He shrugged and smiled to himself. There was something deeply satisfying about making her blush.  
  
"Brilliant," she mumbled to herself as she wandered out to the garden. "I just need to figure this out and then I never have to see that filthy man ever again."  
  
Draco was, of course, at work, which meant that it was just the two of them. The conversation was surprisingly pleasant until halfway through dessert, Lucius brought up the subject at hand.  
  
"Tell me, Hermione, how do you feel about Dolohov?"  
  
"He's evil," she quickly responds.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"He killed a lot of good people, innocent people."  
  
"And if he weren't that person?"  
  
"I'm afraid I'm not following."  
  
"If he were just an average wizard who didn't fight in the war on either side, what would your opinion be of him?"  
  
"I really don't know."  
  
"Do you find him handsome?"   
  
"I can hardly separate what he's done from anything else about him."  
  
"Try," he insisted.  
  
"I don't know. I suppose he is alright to look at. Not amazing, but he's no troll. He's intelligent. Intense." She paused. "I fail to see how any of this is relevant."  
  
"It's just a thought I had."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"Perhaps subconsciously you find him interesting and that's changing how the curse affects you."  
  
"But he told me that it's because our magic is woven together in the scar."  
  
"Mmm. Well. Perhaps it's possible..." his voice trailed off and he seemed distant for a moment. "If you're feeling inclined, this afternoon I can help you find some books that we can look through that might be helpful."  
  
"I would appreciate that." She stood and pushed in her chair. "Lucius, I'm sorry about last night. Thank you for your hospitality."  
  
"It's quite alright. I have the space and since you arrived unconscious, I felt it might be best if you stayed."  
  
"All the same I'm going home tonight."  
  
"If you think it wise."  
  
"I can't just live in fear, can I?"  
  
"We'll talk about it later when Draco gets home," he said in an authoritative tone.   
  
She nodded and they went back to the library. Sadly, the books that Lucius had already found were dead ends and so together they pulled more books off shelves, scanning their pages while perched at opposite ends of a leather couch. When Draco arrived home, he found them still at it, piles of books at their feet and on the cushion between them.  
  
"Father. Granger."   
  
They both looked up.  
  
"Any luck?"  
  
Hermione made a wry face and Lucius shook his head.  
  
"Hermione thinks she'd like to go home tonight. What do you think?" He already knew what Draco would say.  
  
"I think it's a terrible idea. If he can dismantle the wards, there's no way to keep him out. Wait, why are you suddenly calling her Hermione?"  
  
"But I need to take care of Crooks and, no offence, I prefer staying at my place. And because it's my name, Malfoy."

He looked from one of them to the other.  
  
"Well, if you insist on going I'm staying over," he announced.

Lucius looked as surprised Hermione.  
  
"I don't even have a proper guest bed."  
  
"Well, you've got a sofa."  
  
"I do, but I really couldn't ask you to sleep there."  
  
"You didn't. I decided that's what I'm doing. You can't be there alone right now. And what would Potter say if I let you go there and something bad happened? Anyway, I'm an Auror. Let me do my job."  
  
Lucius gave a reluctant nod, thus imposing his personal stamp of authority.  
  
"You're both terribly bossy, I'll have you know."  
  
"You're one to talk, Her-mi-o-ne," Draco grinned.  
  
"Alright children, it's been decided, you'll go after dinner," announced Lucius with finality. "Take some of these books if you'd like."  
  
Hermione fumed but knew she couldn't do anything to change Draco's mind.

Draco ended up staying the next 4 nights, each day just like the others. Research at the Manor with Lucius all day, taking Draco home with her at night. Nothing happened, but they didn't learn anything either. She was beginning to give up hope. After that she refused to let Draco stay at night and instead only permitted him to check the flat when she would go home after dinner.  
  
On the third night home by herself, her nerves were beginning to finally settle down. Until she was awakened in the middle of the night.  
  


* * *

  
Antonin Dolohov had sat down on the edge of Hermione's bed, watching her in the dim light. He hadn't meant to wake her, but there she was, sitting up, eyes large as saucers.   
  
"Hello again, little rabbit," he said softly.  
  
"Dolohov," she squeaked.  
  
"I wanted to come sooner, but you were gone. And then you had company. Why was he here?"  
  
"To protect me from you!"  
  
A grin split his face. "And where is he now?"  
  
"I told him not to bother coming tonight."  
  
"Thought I went away?" He inched closer.  
  
"I had hoped?"  
  
He laughed. "I am patient, little rabbit. You can keep running, but I will always catch you."  
  
She scooted back as far as she could from him, but he crept ever closer, crawling on his knees. His tussled dark hair hung loose about his face and as he approached in the dim light, she could see that he had shaved since the last time she'd seen him. His grey eyes glinted with something that made her even more nervous that she already was.  
  
"Are you afraid? Is your little heart racing?"  
  
"Y-yes."  
  
"Good, good. As it should be."  
  
She began to grope blindly for her wand.  
  
"Looking for something?" She saw that he held it in his hand, out of reach.  
  
"Give that to me!"  
  
"Tsk. And let you hex me and call the Aurors? I think not."  
  
"And if I promise not to?"  
  
"I think I will keep it safe until I'm ready to leave."  
  
"You could leave now?" She tried to be bold, but he made her feel as nervous as the first time she saw a dragon.  
  
He pulled out his own wand. "Incarcerous," he whispered. Thin chains suddenly held her wrists and ankles to her bed. "Silencio."  
  
She gave him a murderous look and her mouth was moving violently, but there was no sound.  
  
"Now you will listen to me, girl. I'm here to figure out what is happening between us. I know you've been doing your research, but you haven't found anything. You're not going to because I invented that spell. Perhaps you should be learning about me instead of studying other people's curses." He paused and barely traced a finger along her bare thigh. A shiver of something like electricity ripped through them both and he moaned.  
  
"I guarantee you that doesn't happen when other wizards touch you. Does it?"   
  
She narrowed her eyes, but shook her head.  
  
"Because you are mine," he whispered along her ear.  
  
She shivered and closed her eyes as he moved closer and brushed her cheek with his knuckles.  
  
Finally he could stand it no more. He crushed his lips to hers and they both felt the magic flutter up between them, like butterflies let loose from a cage. He used his other hand to ruck up her night dress, his touch feather-light on her bare skin, until her torso was exposed. He broke the kiss to examine her anew. There it was. His mark. His brand. What exactly had he done to her? He was still not sure. But there was one thing he was certain of. He was not going to let her go.  
  


* * *

  
Hermione struggled in the magical chains. She couldn’t wordlessly Accio her wand, so she wasn’t sure what to do. And the more he touched her, the more she wasn’t sure what she _wanted_ to do. ‘ _It’s Dolohov_ ,’ she reminded herself over and over.  
  
He was kissing her stomach, all along her scar, making her writhe, when he swiped a fingertip along the crotch of her knickers. If she wouldn’t have been silenced, she would have screamed.  
  
Antonin truly did see himself as a patient man. He could have taken her right then and there. But there was a mystery to unravel and so he held himself back despite the increasing constriction of his trousers. Or rather, the increasing need for liberation from them. Instead he sat back and looked at Hermione as one might observe a dissected animal, pinned down and open for poking and prodding. She had grown up to be an interesting woman in every sense: beautiful in her own way, her wild mane of hair slightly more tame, wide doe eyes full of fire (at present), small pouty lips, pert breasts, and a figure that he recently learned she maintained by running early in the morning. Yes, Hermione Granger was worth appreciating.  
  
And then there was the matter of what his curse did to them both. He could chase that feeling the rest of his life and never be satisfied. The question is if she could ever allow herself to feel the same. He was going to have to change her mind. He supposed that showing up in the middle of the night and chaining her down wasn't winning him any points, but she really didn't leave him much choice. The same with silencing her. She was a powerful witch after all and not someone to cross. But he saw who was staying at her flat. And he knew where she'd been. So where did the Malfoys fit in? What's her relationship to them? Something perhaps to ask later when she was able to speak. But for now, he wanted to, no, needed to remind her of the power he held in his very skin. She looked terrified again now that he'd stopped touching her and he needed to rectify the situation. He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it casually to the floor. He crawled over her, straddling her small frame and kissed her forehead in a rare moment of pure affection before lowering himself onto her, skin on skin where her night dress had been pushed up. It felt like fire.  
  
He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, taking in the overwhelming sensation, hoping she was doing the same.  
  
"How can you want to escape this?" he whispered, nuzzling into her neck.   
  
Hermione couldn't answer, but she was struggling _hard_ not to think the same thing. This, whatever it was, was powerful.   
  
Antonin decided then to take a risk. "Finite," he whispered and suddenly he could hear Hermione breathing hard beneath him. It was a glorious sound and he subconsciously bucked his hips against her.  
  
Hermione gasped and then blinked a few times as she realised that she was no longer silenced. Her mind was whirling. At least he still had his trousers on. But for how long? And what did _she_ want?  
  
He kissed along her shoulder and inched her nightdress higher before his lips at last found a delicate nipple to suckle.   
  
Hermione thought she was going to explode.  
  
"Antonin.." she whined, which only encouraged him to keep up his assault.  
  
So when he shifted and slid a finger into her wet folds, she finally came undone, her body bucking beneath his as she made a delicious sound of release.  
  
"Hermione, my beauty" he sighed, now licking along her scar. When he kissed its center, she cried out again in pleasure and, with a grunt, he came in his trousers like a school boy.  
  
A very pleased Antonin pressed his forehead to hers, looking into her eyes. "It's time to stop denying what we do to each other, little rabbit. Will you keep running?" He kissed her fiercely and then got up, putting his shirt back on while still looking her over. He sat her wand on a nearby bookshelf, directed his own to free her from her chains, and promptly disapparated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for going on this adventure with me. We'll see where it leads! As always, I'm grateful for the kudos and comments. :D


	4. Will the Real Manipulator Please Stand Up?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A devious Lucius Malfoy decides to take advantage of the situation. Again.
> 
> Warning: A bit of non-con

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.   
> Thanks for reading!

The next day, Hermione appeared at the Manor at the usual time. But something about her feverish pace that morning (and perhaps the fact that she actually jumped once when he got too close) tipped off Lucius that all was not well. He watched her more carefully the rest of the day, finally breaking his silence while they took tea later.

Lucius was sitting directly across from Hermione when he gave her a piercing glance.

"He came back." His voice had a sharp edge to it.

She gently sat down her teacup and rubbed her face with both hands.

"Last night," she admitted, sounding subdued.

"Did he hurt you?"

"Yes! And.. no."

"Mmm. Well, Dolohov is very good at manipulating."

She swallowed nervously.

"He waited until I was alone. He's been watching."

"But of course," was his nonchalant reply. "He is a spider and you are the fly."

"Could we find a different metaphor?"

"Would you prefer a hunter and his quarry?"

"Not particularly."

"Then tell me how you see it?"

"Flies don't.. aren't allowed to enjoy being caught."

"I suppose he did always like to play with his victims," he smirked.

"I'm not so sure he sees me as a victim. I mean, he did before, I'm sure. But now something is different."

"So you're sure that he's actually interested in _you_ and not just this little side effect?"

"He..." She paused.

"Continue."

"He said that I need to stop denying how he makes me feel. That I'm his."

"Perhaps Draco and I ought to have a care as well then."

Draco appeared at that moment, returning from work. "What's that, father? What do we need to have a care about?"

"It seems that dear Antonin has a possessive streak."

Draco looked from Lucius to Hermione, who was sitting with her lips tightly squeezed into a thin line. He turned on her.

"He's trouble, Hermione," he growled in frustration. "Did you think he was just going to stop?"

"I was wrong, Draco, I'm sorry," she quavered.

"Are you?" he demanded. "Because you have yet to tell me what's really going on." He sat down in the chair between them, arms crossed, and waited.

Two pair of silver eyes were fixed on Hermione, one slightly darker than the other. She noted that the two men provided an interesting game of comparisons. Both faces wore expressions of concern, though Lucius seemed somehow more amused and relaxed than Draco who was sitting uncomfortably straight, his own pale blond hair tied back while Lucius's was loose. Both wore what she assumed was designer clothing, though Lucius's was more traditional and Draco preferred a more modern, urban style.

Both made her feel at the moment like she was an insect under a microscope.

"When he cursed me back in our Fifth Year, apparently some of his magic got embedded in the scar. Usually people died from that curse but I had silenced him and it changed something. Because we found out years ago during the Battle of Hogwarts that if he touches my skin, it's... it's electric."

"Electric?" Draco tilted his head, not understanding the word.

"Sorry, Muggle term. Um.. like a fizzling feeling."

"And he came to your house because he can make you feel.. fizzly?"

"Um..."

"It makes her aroused," Lucius explained with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"Kinky, Granger," Draco smirked, calling her by her last name again out of habit. "No wonder you don't like talking about it."

"Yes and I'd rather you not bring it up again," Hermione retorted.

"No promises, but just for you I'll make an effort." He winked.

' _Bloody Malfoys_ ,' she thought.

"So he knows you've been spending time with us?" Lucius asked.

"Apparently, yes. That is, he knew that you, Draco, weren't staying at my flat last night. And wanted to know why you'd been there. So I told him why because he also knew about my research and-"

Draco cut her off. "That's why you shouldn't be staying there alone. What if he'd hurt you?"

"I don't think he wants to.." Lucius suggested.

Draco wondered what else his father knew that he didn't.

"What _does_ he want, then?"

"He means to convince me to like him," admitted Hermione.

"And has he? Convinced you?" Draco shifted uncomfortably.

"He chained me to the bed so that I couldn't easily hex him, for Merlin's sake!"

"That doesn't always mean anything," Lucius murmured. Hermione went scarlet.

"Look, just because.. because of what.. what _happens_.." She paused, flustered. "Well, it doesn't mean that I actually _like_ him."

She stopped and chewed her bottom lip for a moment while the two men stayed silent. She looked first at Lucius, then Draco.

"Merlin, you must both think I'm a slag."

Draco looked shocked. He would never accuse her of being a slag! Well, outside of a joke, maybe.

Lucius pursed his lips in thought. He knew that he needed to be careful in how he responded.

"Hermione, no one is accusing you of... being a loose woman. You are, by your own admission, suffering from the effects of a curse."

"Well, yes," she agreed readily. "But everything gets so muddled in my head. I'm afraid if we don't figure this out soon, the day will come when I might not want him to stop."

Lucius found himself envying Dolohov. It sounded like a delightful little problem to have with any witch, let alone one such as Hermione Granger. To render her powerless to truly fight him off- no, not just powerless. Unwilling. It's no wonder Dolohov was being persistent.

* * *

It was agreed that she would stay at the Manor that night.

While Draco took care of fetching Crookshanks and her pajamas and setting even more wards around her flat, Lucius convinced Hermione to have a hot chocolate with him in the library, sitting side by side on the settee. He hoped to get her to voluntarily tell him exactly what Dolohov had done to her- partially because he simply wanted to know and partially because he enjoyed her discomfort.

"Hermione," he said slowly, "I know that you need to talk. Women always do. It's cathartic for you. Tell me what Dolohov did to you. I won't tell anyone, not even Draco."

"And you assume I'll be more comfortable talking to you about it?

"Yes. You were uncomfortable telling Draco about your little problem and yet you've told me. Does this mean you haven't told anyone else either?"

"I haven't," she admitted.

"But if you'd rather not talk about last night.." he paused and took a sip of the rich beverage.

"I'd rather not." She took a large swallow from her own mug. Lucius hid his disappointment and decided to turn the conversation in a different direction, feigning concern.

"You're certain that he didn't hurt you?"

"If making me feel wretchedly vulnerable counts, then yes."

"I meant physically, but take it as you'd like. So the curse effects your body, but not your mind?"

"It makes it difficult to remember the facts."

"Which are?"

"No offence, but he's a former Death Eater, killed people that I care about, _and_ tried to kill me."

"None taken," he smirked.

"He's also a stalker and to top it all off, he's an absolute bastard."

A faint smile played on Lucius's face as they sat in silence and finished their drinks. When Hermione's mug was empty, she placed it next to his on the low table in front of them and turned to ask him something. But her words died on her lips when Lucius placed his hand on her thigh.

"Tell me, Hermione," His voice was dangerously low. "How do you feel when I do this?"

"That you should keep your hands to yourself," she snipped and pushed his arm away.

"And with Dolohov?" he asked pointedly.

"The same."

"But what if I gently stoke your cheek like this?" He reached up, the tips of his well-manicured fingers touching her face.

"Please stop, Lucius. You know full well I don't like it when you touch me." She moved to stop him, but he quickly grabbed both of her wrists and held them tightly in one hand. She grew visibly more nervous.

"What happens when he does it?" His unoccupied hand touched her again, drifting from her cheek to her neck as he watched her expression grow steadily darker.

"I told you already." She tried to wriggle from his grasp. "When he touches me, it's like magic humming in my skin. Please let me go!"

"And how about if I do this..?"

Lucius tightened his grip on her wrists even more as he leaned over her, his hand cradling her head, fingers tangled in her thick mane of curls while he pressed his warm velvety lips to hers. His body blocked her from moving and the grip in her hair assured that she could't easily pull away. Unsuccessful at pushing him away, a minute later Hermione finally managed to bite Lucius's lip when he tried to coax more from her tightly sealed mouth, causing him to jerk away and to release his hold on her.

"Vile witch," he snarled.

"Get away from me!" an accosted Hermione shrieked at last, jumping up.

Draco appeared in the doorway at that moment, drawn by the shouting. "What's going on here?" he questioned, looking from his father to Hermione.

"I was merely making a point," Lucius responded, dabbing a bit of blood from his lip with his handkerchief.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Which is?"

"That no one but Dolohov can evoke a certain reaction from her regardless of what they do to her." He looked smug. "Am I not right?"

"You're foul," she snarled.

"You tasted simply divine," he purred.

"You.. you fucking.." She began pummeling him with her fists and had to be pulled off by Draco. "Don't you ever... ever..!" She was seeing red and Draco knew that an angry Hermione was a frightening thing to behold, even if she didn't draw her wand. He held her firmly from behind, arms wrapped around her shoulders.

"Calm down, Hermione," he said quietly in her ear. "Calm down. I don't know what just happened, but I'm here now."

"He.. he kissed me!" she spat. "He's revolting!"

Lucius overheard and snorted.

"Shhh, don't look at him. Pretend he isn't there. It's just you.. and me.. Shhhhh."

Hermione took a shuddering breath.

"That's right, love, shhhh. I'll protect you. You're safe."

Once she could breathe normally again, Draco gently released her from his own tight grasp and led her from the library to her bedroom. It didn't stop her from glaring daggers at Lucius on the way out.

"You'll be alright, Hermione?" he asked anxiously. "I'll keep him away from you."

"I'll be fine," she snapped. "But I'm not staying here another night. I'll figure this out on my own if I have to."

"Easy there. I'm not letting you stay there by yourself. Not unless you want Dolohov to.. well.. whatever he does to you."

"Hold me down to take what he wants from me?"

"Just like my father," he remarked bitterly.

"Your father is worse."

"How's that?"

"At least Dolohov is trying to change my opinion of him."

Draco made a wry face. "Stay tonight at least. I'll go see Father. Have a hot bath and then try to get some rest. I'll tell the elves that you're not to be disturbed, by them or anyone else."

* * *

Hermione silently agreed that a long soak was in order. When did her life begin to go pear-shaped? She'd never been the center of so much - what was this anyway? Sexual dysfunction? Male chauvinism? Predatory behavior? Whatever it was made her skin crawl and she needed to scrub it all away. She closed the door and turned on the tap, locking and warding both the bedroom and bathroom doors before stripping down. She shut off the tap and sank into the water with a long sigh.

She could hardly imagine what Ginny would say if she told her about her last two nights. She probably would want to know what Lucius tasted like. Or if dangerous men make better lovers. Merlin! She was beginning to well and truly regret her decision to come to Lucius for help. They still hadn't found any answers, his little event was coming up, and worst of all, he held her down tonight and kissed her. Actually bloody kissed her! If Draco hadn't come in, she didn't know what she would have done to Lucius. Although.. shouldn't he have been afraid to sully himself like that? Apparently not now? Regardless, he was still not someone to trust.

She also couldn't believe that slimy man had the nerve to force her to compare how he made her feel to Dolohov. But he was right about one thing- she couldn't keep going like this. If that would have been Dolohov, instead of her skin crawling like it rightly should, it would have cried out for more.

Hermione swore and finished up because she had something to say to both Malfoys before she went to bed.

* * *

Draco left Hermione to whatever she chose to do and sought out his father. He found him still in the library, having moved on to firewhisky.

"Father-" he started, but Lucius spoke up.

"I made my point. She'll realise what it means later."

"And that is?"

"That she's going to succumb soon to Dolohov unless she finds the cure."

"Don't you think she's been traumatised enough this week?"

"I have no regrets, Draco."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons."

Draco considered this vague statement for a moment. What is his father up to?

"She probably hates you now."

"She currently thinks I'm the big bad wolf from her Muggle fairy tales." He grinned. "And yet you were able to calm her down and keep her from hexing me. Why do you suppose that is?"

"Because I'm her friend."

"Is that all?"

"Merlin, father, the war might be over, but I know I'd still be cut off if I so much as looked at Granger in any way that was more than friendly."

"I might be an obstinate snob, but you know I don't believe in that blood purity nonsense anymore or I wouldn't have had my lips anywhere near her."

" _What_?"

"You needn't think I'd cut you off."

"What's with the sudden interest in her?"

Lucius shrugged. "She's intelligent, driven, and is worth looking at when she's not covered head to toe in fabric."

"You would know this how?"

"I merely asked to see her scar the first day that she came here." He smirked. "I might have also convinced her to let me do some up close investigating. And I may have openly looked up her skirt once."

"And she still agreed to let you help her?"

"I believe you'll find that Miss Hermione Granger thinks she can handle everything and everyone. Clearly, she is not up to the task and I enjoy reminding her of it."

"You're taking advantage of a woman. Don't you find that distasteful? And she's young enough to be your daughter."

"She's the one coming into my house, eating my food, using my son as a bodyguard. She knows that I'm dangerous. The question is rather if she enjoys it or not."

"She is _not_ using me. I offered."

"Fine, she is taking advantage of your good will."

"I made her life miserable for years. It's the least I can do."

Lucius shrugged and inwardly debated if Draco was telling the truth. "If you say so."

"You raised me to be a right prat. I terrorized that girl our entire time at Hogwarts."

"And yet she's nice to you," Lucius smirked again.

"Yeah, well, I apologised profusely and then had to prove myself to her and everyone else for the last 4 years."

Lucius snorted. "Was it worth it to debase yourself like that?"

"And become friends with Potter and friends? Actually, yes. They're pretty decent these days. And it means that less people glare at me."

"Well, so long as you get something out of it-"

* * *

Hermione quickly dried her hair, pulled a robe over her nightgown, and summoned her fluffy slippers. She wasn't really wanting to face Lucius again, but she had something to say. Time to find the Malfoys.

She was glad to have found them still in the library - it saved her from wandering the entire Manor or calling for an elf for help. They were talking in low voices with the door still open when she walked in.

"Excuse me, gentlemen."

Both looked up at her in surprise.

"Nice slippers," quipped Draco, unable to help himself even though he was one who picked them up for her earlier.

"Whatever, Draco. I have something to say."

"Yes, sweet Hermione?" asked Lucius. She glared at him in return.

"I have to stop being manipulated from this curse. I don't want anything that isn't real."

Lucius gave Draco a knowing glance.

"Isn't that what you've been trying to do? Find a cure for it?" Draco queried.

"Well yes, but.. it was brought to my attention that I absolutely _cannot_ live this way. I don't know what I think about Dolohov, but I want to be able to think it outside of this curse. Otherwise I'll never know."

"Far be it for us to come between Hermione and her need to know things" said a snarky Lucius.

"It may surprise you to learn, Lucius, that my curiosity has its limits."

"Whatever could you be implying?"

"That I did _not_ need to know what it was like to kiss you." She turned on her heel and marched out of the room.

He gave Draco a wink.

"I think she probably did. But I suppose that means she didn't like it."

"It's no wonder that she hates you, Father. Leave the poor woman alone - I mean it."

The seriousness in Draco's voice gave Lucius pause. He supposed he could stop intentionally testing her limits, amusing as it was. He had, however, zero regrets about kissing her. He'd been wondering what that would be like since the day she walked into his study. He was delighted that he didn't have to wait very long to find out. It would have been better, of course, if she wouldn't have been struggling to get away. At the very least, she'd come to her senses about how urgent this curse business really was. He supposed he'd go back to doing a little research for her after he got plans for the fundraiser squared away, especially because he needed her to be there for it to get the funding he was hoping for.

That night Draco had trouble sleeping. He had another nightmare about Hermione being tortured in his house, only this time it was his father, not Bellatrix, torturing her. He only wanted to protect her and instead he had colossally failed her. Again.


	5. To Catch a Cursebreaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione make a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading! As always, a special thanks to those who have taken the time to comment. I love to know what you're thinking!

**Chapter 5: To Catch a Cursebreaker**

* * *

When Draco and Hermione came back to the Manor the next day, Lucius was thankfully absent, out making plans for his upcoming fundraiser. Draco offered to call off and stay to help (or keep watch in case his father did come back), but Hermione all but forced him out the door. She spent the day searching through the various stacks of books now piled around the library, forgetting to eat lunch and growing more anxious by the hour. The whole day was apparently for nothing. Yes, there were now more books in the "unhelpful" stack to re-shelve, but that was about it.

Lucius was absent for dinner as well, so she dined with Draco who was keen to catch her up on the latest tittle-tattle from the Ministry and steer clear of anything he considered to be an unsure topic.

"Any luck today?" he finally asked, as they got up from the table and moved down the hall to Draco's study, a room with a more modern aesthetic, leather armchairs, and various quidditch paraphernalia.

"No," she sighed as she sank into one of the chairs. "I'm beginning to think I'm really not going to find anything."

"I would have stayed to help, you know."

"No offence Draco, but I'm not sure it would have done much good."

"Before I forget to mention it, you need to owl Potter or the Weasleys or someone because they're all getting anxious. They're concerned something is wrong. But I made up some story about having bumped into you a few days ago and that you seemed fine."

"Shite, in all this craziness, I completely forgot to write. Thanks, Draco." She sighed. "You know, you're not as bad as your father."

Draco laughed.

"I'm not sure how I should take that, but thanks I guess."

She shrugged and gave him a cheeky grin.

"Just because I was a complete prat to you for years doesn't mean I haven't learned to play nice."

"You playing nice. Who'd have thought it?" She giggled.

"Well, you're still fun to wind up, but it's just for laughs now. Mind you, you tend to laugh now as well."

"Draco Malfoy, are we having a little heart-to-heart?"

"Seems that way, Hermione Granger," he smiled. "Perhaps I just feel the need to prove that just because I'm a Malfoy doesn't mean I have to be an arsehole.

* * *

While Draco packed a small bag and gave some instructions to his elves, Hermione sat in the library and struggled over what to write on the piece of parchment before her as she sucked on the edge of her quill. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten to owl her friends! She was lucky she hadn't been bombarded with owls herself or gotten a howler from Ginny who seemed to have her mother's knack for sending volatile missives. She decided that simple was best and wrote that she was doing well, had been very busy, and apologised profusely for not writing sooner. She promised to write again in a few days when she had more time. Satisfied, she more or less recopied the same sentiments, sending one note to the Weasleys (because it was easier to write them all at once) and the other note to Harry. She was sure that they would be suspicious about the lack of details, but she vowed to write them something more interesting in a few days when she was hopefully less distracted.

* * *

Draco followed Hermione to her flat, adding his own wards and blocking the Floo for the night. He fell asleep on the couch, wand tucked under his pillow. Hermione was having difficulty sleeping and at around 3am wandered from her room to get a glass of water. She moved as silently as she could, not wanting to disturb Draco. She was pulling a glass from the cabinet when she noticed a small card lying on the countertop that was certainly not there earlier when she went to bed. It appeared to be the same sort that had accompanied the bottle of wine. In small print was written 'Hope you've been thinking of me, little rabbit. Until tonight.'

"Draco," she called out in alarm.

Moments later he was by her side, wand at the ready.

She held up the card for him to see.

"We've had a visitor."

With his free hand, Draco swore and took the card from her.

"I'll check the wards." He stalked off, checking everything, every window or possible point of entry.

In the meantime, a very shaken Hermione put the kettle on and pulled mugs from the cupboard. Draco returned a few minutes later as she was pouring them both a tea.

"No sign of entry," he sighed as he reappeared, raking his hair back with his fingers.

She slid his mug toward him, cream and one sugar, just as he liked it. She hadn't meant to gawk at him as he leaned against the worktop, standing there in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, barefoot, like it was the most normal thing in the world. She had just never seen him look so.. underdressed. As she thought about it, she realised that he was always already dressed for work when she saw him the other mornings. She supposed it was because she had never woken him up in the middle of the night.

"Any particular reason you're looking me over, Hermione?"

She cracked a small smile. "I was just thinking that I'd never seen you looking so.. so.."

"Dashing?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Average is the word I was looking for."

"Ouch." He clutched his heart dramatically.

"Pajamas aren't really the same as designer trousers. I half-expected you to have on a matching silk dressing gown like your father."

"I might be a snob, but I _do_ live in the current century," he laughed and she joined in.

They began drinking their tea and Hermione grew serious.

"I'm sorry, Draco, dragging you into all this."

"What? I'm an Auror and he's a baddie. Yeah, you could have asked Potter, but for whatever reason you didn't. And I'm not about to just give up, even if it means staying up all night for a week."

"You have to sleep sometime, Draco," she said gently.

He sighed. "You know what I mean. You need to catch him and I'm here to help."

"That's it!" she squeaked, slightly startling Draco. "We need to catch him somehow. Make him talk. If anyone understands this curse, it will be the man who invented it, yeah?"

"I suppose?"

The two of them moved to the the couch, talking until dawn as they attempted to come up with a reasonable way to trap a crafty man like Dolohov. Hermione eventually fell asleep on Draco's shoulder. When he realised this, he laid her carefully down on the cushions, took one of the extra pillows for himself, and slept the rest of the night on the floor.

When Hermoine awoke later that morning, she was embarrassed to find herself on the couch and a sleeping Draco on the floor. When she looked up and saw the time, she was glad that he already had taken the day off or he'd have been late. She decided to go make them breakfast anyway and soon her flat was full of delicious smells.

She startled when a sleepy Draco wandered in still in his pajamas.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"Um, sure. Put a kettle on for us?"

"Yeah, ok," he smiled and filled the kettle up with water.

* * *

Fortified from breakfast, they talked over their plan again for when Dolohov would arrive and Draco shared his own personal opinions of the man from during the war. None of it was kind, aside from the fact that he was apparently one of the most brilliant dualists Draco had ever seen, which didn't reassure either of them. From there they talked about anything and everything, mostly to distract them both from the fact that later that night they would have to face Dolohov. A few hours after lunch, still in her pajamas, a very sleepy Hermione declared that she was going to her room to take a nap.

"Fine, but I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"So what, you're going to stand next to my bed hovering awkwardly?"

"If I have to."

"Well I don't like it."

"Do I need to call in Potter? Or the Weasel?" he threatened with a smirk.

"I'd rather keep Harry out of this. He'd take it too personally and is liable to do something reckless. Same with Ron."

"Then I'm going to be watching over you while you sleep." He crossed his arms, both eyebrows raised.

"He said he'll back tonight, not this afternoon!"

"Maybe he lied. Did that thought ever cross your mind?"

"No..." They very idea that he might have lied made her uneasy all over again. "But you need to sleep, too. Why don't we take shifts? You can go first."

"No, you woke up first this morning."

"You didn't even sleep in a bed!"

"Do I usually when I come here?"

"Er, no, but.. but you don't usually sleep on the floor either."

"It's really ok. Stop mothering me, Hermione. I'm a grown man." He yawned again suddenly. "I'm pretty tired though after you kept me up all night." He winked and she rolled her eyes. He knew that all was well again.

"It's settled then. You can sleep in my bed and I'll sit in a chair next to it and read a book."

"Impossible witch."

"Stubborn wizard."

Hermione, in a huff, turned and walked to her room, Draco trailing behind her. She was attempting to free a large pouffy chair in the corner from under a mountain of books when Draco stopped her.

"Look, let's make this easy. Your bed is big enough, you sit on one side and I'll sleep on the other. I promise not to get in your personal space."

"Go to sleep already," she fake groused as she plopped down with an open book and began reading. Draco settled onto the other side of the bed and almost immediately fell asleep. Two hours passed quickly by and truthfully she hadn't once looked up from her book. When she looked at the clock, she thought it was likely time to wake Draco if she was going to get in a nap as well. He seemed almost innocent in sleep, she noted. Really, before the last few weeks she hadn't noticed much of anything in particular about him. Most of their interaction at the office was spent trading remarks and her occasionally throwing something at him when he got on her nerves. But he was really quite unlike the prat she grew up with. He was obviously comfortable enough around her, but she couldn't figure out his angle. He was almost too.. nice wouldn't be the right word. Is it.. concerned? Either way, she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth and truth be told, she really didn't mind the new Draco. Pushing her thoughts aside, it was time for her to wake him up.

"Draco," she called softly.

"Mmmph," came the muffled reply as he turned and buried his face in the pillow.

"Draco, it's time to wake up," she said a bit louder.

"Ungh," he grunted.

"I'm going to have to resort to something drastic if you don't get up."

He pulled the blankets tighter around him.

So Hermione did what reasonable young adults do when waking a friend: she wrenched away the blankets and tickled his sides.

Draco howled and twisted to get her back, eventually succeeding, finding that the back of her knees was an especially ticklish spot. She laughed til she cried, doing her best to try to keep her knees out of reach as it devolved into a wrestling match that ended when Draco sat on her stomach, straddling her, nose to nose. Her eyes grew wide, her mouth open in surprise as she looked directly into his own shocked face. He immediately scrambled away.

"Sorry," he murmured from the opposite edge of the bed, his ears pinker than usual.

"S'my fault," she muttered as she looked away, equally embarassed. "I got a little carried away."

"Mmm," he hummed awkwardly, not sure of what to say. A few minutes passed in silence. Finally he spoke up. "It's your turn to get some sleep. I promise not to attack your person when it's time for me to wake you."

She looked toward him with a small smile. "Alright then." She got comfortable in the blankets and closed her eyes.

* * *

Draco was reading through one of Hermione's random books on counter curses and trying to ignore how bizarre his day has been. His week even. He found himself simultaneously disgusted by and jealous of his father. He would never stoop to take liberties with any woman, let alone Hermione who he'd vowed to never mistreat again after that dreadful night in the Manor. But she was also one of the few women who didn't swoon mindlessly at his feet. She was respectable, talented, and.. what was it his father had said? Intelligent and driven. And worth looking at. Well regardless, it was already no small thing to have the Golden Girl as a friend. Anything beyond that wasn't even really worth daydreaming about. In spite of what he father thought, it could only lead to problems.

Hermione herself was in the throes of a nightmare. At first, she dreamt that she was by the sea, standing at the edge of the surf when a strong wind came up and blew against her, pushing her further into the water where she fell down, sputtering and struggling in the fierce current that threatened to drag her out to deep water. She tried to swim, but the tide pulled her further out into the freezing waves where she soon grew exhausted from struggling.

In her next dream, she was trapped in an enormous spiderweb, waiting in dread for the beast to come. When it arrived, the frightening creature spoke with the voice of Dolohov as a hairy leg caressed her face, promising her a life of happiness if she would only agree to stay. But she was disgusted and shouted that she hated spiders, so it attacked with venomous fangs and began wrapping her in silk, waiting for her to die.

She then had a third dream and this time she was running. The grey eyes of a figure otherwise drenched in shadow hunted her as she sprinted through the forest, though the exact shade of grey was never the same. Sometimes she thought she was being stalked by a cunning wolf and at other times a large wildcat. Her legs were burning from the chase, her breath now more of a wheeze, heart thundering in her chest. Could she really keep running? The shadow grew closer with eyes larger than before.

"Hermione.." it said in a low growl.

"Stay away from me!" she cried out.

"Hermione.."

* * *

"Hermione," Draco was saying softly. She'd been thrashing about, having some sort of nasty dream he surmised. He gently touched her shoulder trying to wake her, but without avail. He leaned over her in concern as he spoke again. "Hermione.."

Hermione opened her eyes, looked straight into Draco's grey eyes that were inches from her own, and screamed.

Draco leapt away as if she'd tried to hex him. Hermione sat up in alarm.

"Merlin, Draco, you frightened me!"

"You looked like you were having a nightmare, so I tried to wake you."

"Well, that's because I was! Several, in fact."

"I'm sorry to have scared you."

"And I'm sorry that I screamed. I thought you were the beast from my dream."

"How is that?"

"It had eyes a bit like yours... though now that I think about it, I think it might have been your father. Or Dolohov."

"I'm sorry that father is giving you nightmares," he sighs. "Honestly, you should owl him today and tell him that you're no longer coming to his fundraiser."

"I gave my word, I have to go."

"I don't care. He shouldn't have put his vile hands all over you."

"You'll be there though, won't you?"

"Of course. I have to, it's for the company and I'm the Vice President."

"Then you'll just have to keep an eye on him."

"I don't think he deserves your presence."

"You know what? Let's talk about it _after_ we catch Dolohov."

"Fine.

It was agreed that Draco would visibly leave after dinner and, after making it seem that he was staying at the Manor, for him to then Apparate into her storage closet where he would wait. She left a stool inside to sit upon and the door slightly ajar.

Hermione felt nervous when he left despite knowing that he would come right back. There was no telling at what point Dolohov would return or how or what he might do.

She heard the crack of Apparition down the hall and knew that Draco was there. After several minutes, she walked toward the storage closet and peeked inside. Draco was already sitting there in the cramped space. He gave her a look of warning.

"I'm nervous," she complained in a whisper.

"Get out of here," Draco breathed. "You'll give me away."

She huffed and closed the door most of the way again and wandered off to find something to occupy her mind while she waited.


	6. A Man of His Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Dolohov shows up? Will the plan work?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Around 11pm she heard a faint knock at the door. She looked to the storage closet to fortify her frayed nerves and walked to the door to her flat, pausing to peek through the spyhole. He was there! And he had.. flowers?

She opened the door to greet Dolohov who seemed strangely nervous.

He planted a buzzing kiss on her cheek as he said hello and handed her a lovely bouquet of wild flowers that she quickly arranged in a vase.

"Tea?" she meekly offered. He nodded as she gestured for him to sit down while she busied herself with the kettle. She brought his over to him, milk, no sugar, along with her own.

"I'm so-

"I was thi-"

They both stopped. "Ladies first," he offered.

She shrugged a shoulder. "No, it's alright, go on."

"I was merely saying that I"m sorry that I've come so late."

Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Since when does Antonin Dolohov apologise?"

"Since today." He reached over and put his hand on hers. She reflexively jerked her hand away.

"Still not ready to admit it, little rabbit?"

"There is nothing to admit," she said as calmly as she could manage.

Something flashed in his eyes but his expression stayed neutral.

"So what were you going to say?"

"That I was thinking that you weren't coming."

"I'm a man of my word, Hermione."

"Forgive me for hardly trusting someone I don't really know."

"That's why I'm here tonight. Let's get to know one another."

"Why should I want to?"

"Because I'm not going to give you up."

"I was never yours in the first place."

"You wear my curse; thus, you are mine."

"The last time I checked, Antonin, I didn't ask to be cursed."

"And the last time _I_ checked, little girls shouldn't have been sent out to fight Death Eaters." He finished his tea and smirked.

"My age didn't prevent you from trying to kill me."

"It wasn't personal. I was just doing my duty."

"It felt _highly_ personal to me!" Her voice grew louder.

"I suggest you stay calm, girl."

"Or what?" she challenged.

"Or we'll have a repeat of my last visit," he sneered. "Or maybe.. maybe you liked that, hmm?" He leaned closer to her to whisper, "You seemed to have enjoyed yourself."

"Go fuck yourself, Antonin," she snarled, standing up and moving away.

"Oh no, that's where you come in." He sounded more sinister to her now as he stood as well. "I tried to do things the polite way, but you just won't have it, will you? Am I just not good enough for you?"

Hermione began backing away, leading him from the kitchen. Maybe the plan was working? She sure hoped to Merlin so.

"I'm good enough to get you off, but not to make it mean anything to you?"

His menacing demeanor made her think of her earlier nightmares.

"You held me down, you bastard!"

"Flipendo!" he shouted as he whipped out his wand and she flew back into the wall, hitting her head on a picture frame.

He charged at her, pinning her in place, making sure that their forearms touched. She cried out both from slamming into the wall and from his touch.

"I'd really hoped to avoid this," he purred as he nipped gently at her ear. "Sometimes I forget that my little rabbit is also a tigress when she's angry."

"Please!" she cried softly.

"Mmm, please what?" His hand snaked under her blouse and she made an unholy noise of pleasure.

* * *

In the closet Draco had grown ridiculously bored. Insanely bored. So when he finally heard the knock on the door, he felt at once both relieved and tense. He tried to overhear their conversation, but for a time could only hear bits. That is, until she started shouting and suddenly he heard the thud of someone hitting the wall. Followed by a sound that made him feel quite on edge. Quickly he pushed the door open and in two bounds Dolohov and Hermione came into view.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted before Dolohov could register his presence. "Locomotor Mortis!"

Suddenly Dolohov fell over, legs locked together, and Draco scrambled to get the man's wand. Wands in hand, he stood between the man and Hermione, who was against the wall gasping for breath.

Dolohov laughed, making the hairs stand up on the backs of their necks.

"I should have known little Draco would be lurking here somewhere.

"Don't move, Dolohov, or I'll do something worse."

"Oh and he's all grown up now, I see. What are you going to do? Crucio me? You grew rather good at that."

Draco flushed with shame.

"So you didn't tell her that part, did you? You were one of my best students."

"Those days are long over, Dolohov. I work for the Ministry now."

"Oh I know you do. Yes, while they tried to round up the rest of us for Azkaban, the lovely Malfoy family was only given a little house arrest."

His eyes flicked between Draco and Hermione. "Tell me, little rabbit, what is Draco to you?"

"What? Draco is.. he's a friend."

"Good answer. Because if he were more than that, I'm afraid I'd have to kill him."

"You have no wand, Dolohov, and I'm the one standing over you," Draco sneered.

Dolohov smiled in a most sinister way. "Not all magic requires wands, boy."

"Silencio!" Draco shouted angrily. "Petrificus Totalus! And now that you can't move or talk, we have something to say, Dolohov," he spat. "You're going to tell us _tonight_ how to cure Hermione. And then you're going to leave her the fuck alone."

Dolohov would surely have cursed them both if he could have. Hermione decided to diffuse the situation the best way she knew how. She knelt down next to Dolohov and gently stroked his cheek. The surge of magic soothed them both and she almost _almost_ wished Draco wasn't there. As it was, she knew she'd have to pretend that he wasn't if she was going to act.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "This isn't how I wanted it to go either, but you've left me no choice. And I'm tired of not being able to choose, Antonin. This, whatever it is, robs us of our freedom. Be honest - you would never have sought me out otherwise. But I cannot choose you or anyone else because I can barely even think when we touch."

She began unbuttoning his shirt, careful not to brush against his skin as she peeled it back. His now-bared chest was covered in various scars that she found herself suddenly itching to trace with fingers or tongue. She was craving that feeling of magic rushing through her. She immediately chided herself for such thoughts. She needed freedom, not whatever this was!

Dolohov could sense the conflict within her as her eyes took him in, her pupils already slightly dilated. He had calculated that part correctly at least. The question is what she would do about little Malfoy who was standing over her like a dragon protecting its gold. Interesting...

Draco, for his part, simply could not understand what Hermione was saying and doing. This was a man who had raped her, who admittedly has stalked her, and who would likely have raped her again if he hadn't intervened. And now he got the feeling that he was intruding on something private. He didn't know what this curse was doing to Hermione, but it only made him more determined to help her fight it.

"I learned something this week, Dolohov," Hermione began as she straddled and sat down on the dark haired man's stomach, carefully avoiding his trousers. She let the palms of her hands begin roaming his chest. "I'll never be happy not knowing what this would be like without the curse. And who knows what prolonged exposure would do to us?"

Antonin was well and truly turned on, but he knew to be wary of the curly haired witch for the moment.

"Free him, Draco," she called out without even turning to look at him.

"What?!"

"Just do it, it will be fine."

' _Hmm_ ,' thought Dolohov, ' _though this was obviously a setup, it seems that they hadn't talked this part through._ ' He could be patient and see where this led.

Draco released Dolohov with a simple Finite Incantatum. The man wriggled beneath Hermione as she continued to touch him lazily.

"Oh no, my dear Antonin, you need to stay very still or Draco might have to hurt you." She began unbuttoning her own blouse, revealing a thin lace bra in the palest blue. And then she played her trump card: she laid down on top of him. Draco had turned his head away when she had begun opening her blouse, increasingly uncomfortable with the turn of events.

Dolohov groaned as their magic erupted anew and he reached under the back of her blouse, hands roaming along smooth skin.

"You like having an audience, girlie? Because I certainly don't mind."

"Shhh," she panted. "Listen to me. You need to tell me how to undo this. This is amazing, but it's fake. I don't want something fake." Her speech sounded rehearsed.

"Hermione, I've searched my whole life for something that feels this good. And now you want to take it away?" Hands on her hips, he pushed her down to align them with his own. He was hard beneath her and he wanted her to feel it.

She cried out as her torso dragged along his.

"Feel with me," he hissed. "Stop thinking and feel."

The ache between her thighs was growing and she was so tempted to just agree with him.

"Please tell me, Antonin. If you care about me at all, you'll tell me."

"I can't lose you." He pulled her into a kiss as they writhed together on the floor, no longer concerned that someone else was there watching.

"Who's to say that you will? Please. Please tell me," she begged as she lifted herself up, breaking their kiss and most of their bodily contact.

Antonin took advantage and looked her over and found himself wishing she'd taken off her bra as well.

"It's complicated," he replied and licked his lower lip.

"But you know how to fix it?" she mewled as he pulled her back against him.

"Maybe, little rabbit. But it will cost you."

"What do you want?"

"You have to go on a date with me first. A real one."

"Fine," she panted against him. "And then you'll tell me?"

"And then I will tell you everything I know about it." He personally would promise her anything if she'd give him a real chance. Not that he wanted her cured, no. And not that he truly knew just yet what was going on. He had a few ideas now, but he wasn't in a hurry to resolve this - not like she was. His goal was to change her mind about even wanting a cure. Surely as soon as she saw how they were perfect together she'd finally agree with him. And if she didn't, well, he never was above taking what he wanted.

"Let her go, Dolohov," Draco cut in.

"Of course," he smirked and let go of Hermione who warily moved aside and scrambled to her feet, holding her blouse close against her ribs.

"Let me have his wand." She felt Draco press it into her left hand as she reached down with her right to help Dolohov up. She steered him toward the door where she buttoned his shirt for him.

"Does Tuesday lunch work for you?" she asked quietly.

"Of course," he murmured, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. "Meet me in front of Camden Town Station at 11:30."

She was relieved that he mentioned a popular part of London.

"I'll be there." She leaned in and brushed her lips against his cheek. "And please. Stop watching me."

He smirked and let her all but push him out the door.

The second that he was out, she locked the door and leaned back against it.

"Now to not lose my mind before Tuesday," she huffed.

* * *

Draco looked at her strangely and she realised that her blouse was still open, though mercifully it covered the essentials. She hastily began rebuttoning it.

"So.. what was _that_ all about at the end?"

"I had to be convincing, you know," she said as she fastened the last few buttons.

"Well, I don't know about Dolohov, but I certainly was convinced."

"Now you know why I didn't want to involve Harry. I don't think he would have taken that well."

"And somehow you knew that I would?"

"Look, Draco, I don't really know how you see me, but to Harry I'm the sister he never had. Would _you_ want to watch someone put their hands all over your sister if you had one?"

"Well, no, but - you think what that madman did to you doesn't bother me? Maybe you forget that I actually know him."

"That's not what I mean, Draco. You didn't freak out or do anything irrational."

"That doesn't mean I was unaffected."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's just that.. look, I know we've never been close, but having to watch this whatever just happened with Dolohov."

"You act like I wanted to, Draco!"

"It's just.. well.. I don't know." He looked down at his shoes.

Hermione bristled.

"You don't expect the Golden Girl to engage in such behavior, is that it?"

"Sort of?"

"I'll have you know, Draco Malfoy, that just because I don't dress like some two sickle tart doesn't mean that I'm a prude!"

"That's not what I meant.."

"Or did it break your mind to realise that I'm a grown witch?"

"You know that's not it either. I'm full aware of what you are."

"What are you so upset about then? The plan worked, more or less."

"It.. it wasn't what I expected."

"So what _did_ you expect? I told you what happens, so it's not like you didn't know."

"Knowing and seeing are two entirely different things," Draco replied in a strained voice. He still wasn't looking at her, but his ears were now tinged with pink. He didn't seem angry like Harry would have been, but she supposed that he could feel embarrassed somehow.

"So what it is then?" she challenged. Leave it to her to be blunt as always.

"I'm not a deaf troll, Hermione, and you were making noises I'd rather not know you could make."

"Well I'm sorry that I have ruined your innocent image of me, Draco."

"You didn't seem to be all that sorry when you had your hands all over him."

"I am because you're obviously not going to want to help me anymore."

"I- what?" He blinked and tried to snap out of the haze that had overtaken his mind.

"You're being weird about this. Maybe it was a bad idea."

"I don't let my feelings get in the way of doing a job."

"And what about how _I_ feel about this?"

"How _do_ you feel about it?"

"I'm tired of being treated like I'm some.. some plaything."

"You're no one's plaything, Hermione. You're a brainy, feisty, pretty little witch who most people know not to cross."

Somewhat mollified by his words, Hermione calmed down.

"He's taking me to lunch on Tuesday. I have to go shopping anyway, so I'll just take him along."

"You can't be seen with Dolohov!"

"Do you think the Muggles will know who we are?"

"He's.. what?"

"We'll be around Muggles, Draco. Which also means that he won't be able to use magic."

"Do you think he'll really tell you the cure?"

"Possibly not, but it's worth a try."

"He's determined to have you, Hermione. Did you hear how he threatened me?"

"Merlin, I don't want to think about it anymore right now. Do you mind letting me stay here alone tonight? I don't think he'll be back."

"You're probably right."

"I think I'll do some more reading here at my flat tomorrow and then thought I'd see the Weasleys on Sunday. Dinner Monday night?"

"If you're sure."

"Yeah, of course. I'll make something here for once. And Draco?" She paused and sighed. "Thanks. That could have went a lot worse tonight if you hadn't have been here."

"Yeah, no problem. See you Monday." He stepped into the floo and went home.

Hermione sank on the sofa feeling deflated, like she had done something wrong. She supposed she hadn't really thought about how Draco would feel about anything. And what was it that he called her? ' _A brainy, feisty, pretty little witch who most people know not to cross_.' He... thinks she's pretty? Surely he'd said 'swotty' and she simply misheard. But then she remembered their awkward moment earlier. Still, that was the only time he ever seemed flustered around her. Really, how was she to know what any of it means? It was best not to dwell on it.

* * *

That night Draco took a cold shower, but it wasn't enough. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Hermione practically fucking Dolohov with her clothes on. And if he thought about it for more than just a few seconds, his mind was filled with pants and whines and every other sound she'd made. Blurred with the memory of having her beneath him that afternoon, though only for a moment, how was he ever going to fall asleep? Frustrated and hoping to get the whole thing out of his system, he permitted himself to take things in hand just this once.


	7. Unexpected Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius and Antonin come to the same conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Hermione woke up late the next day feeling slightly more optimistic. Just after breakfast, she owled Lucius to let him know that she wouldn't be back to the Manor until Monday, where she expected to be on his best behaviour. She then spent the morning cleaning her flat, pausing only to send another owl, this time to the Weasleys, inviting herself to Sunday lunch.

The last few days had given her much to think about, but unfortunately said thoughts were inconclusive. She couldn't quite figure out Antonin. Was he genuinely interested in her as a person or just because of their little magical malfunction? She leaned toward the second as they hardly knew each other, but he was making a tiny effort last night until she goaded him into a fight. She hadn't thrown out his flowers, but felt strange about having them there as a visible reminder of the man.

Thinking about Lucius was no better. He obviously had no compunction about kissing her and seemed rather smug about it. She was upset at herself for not being more wary, but all the time recently spent together gradually eroded the bulk of her distrust. All the same, she was determined to face him on Monday. Perhaps she really *should* threaten to not go to his fundraiser.

And then there was Draco. Something had changed the day before, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Well, at least she wouldn't see him until Monday evening.

The remainder of the day was spent reading, hoping to find any clues as to what was happening to her.

* * *

It was late Saturday morning and Lucius Malfoy was out in the garden when Draco came outside to find him. The elder Malfoy was stretched out on a chaise longue situated on a shaded terrace that afforded him a view of the latest blooms.

"Good morning, son," he called out without even glancing at him approaching.

Draco sat in a nearby chair.

"Good morning, father."

"So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine morning? I thought you would be with Miss Granger or one of your other newfound friends."

"I came home late last night. I'll see her Monday after work."

"So either she asked you to leave or Dolohov came back after all. Or was it you who wanted to run home?" Lucius wore a mischievous smile.

"All three?"

"Interesting."

"You could have told me."

"Told you what?"

"What's going on between them."

"Oh, were you treated to a little show? How I would have loved to have been there." He was clearly amused.

"It's not funny, father!"

"Funny is not the word that I would use. Enlightening, perhaps. Enticing."

"I believe the word you're looking for is disgusting."

"And why is _that?_ I'm sure that you've seen Antonin do worse than whatever happened last night. Or.." he paused for effect. "Was it something that Miss Granger did?"

"She held him down and nearly took their shirts off."

"Is that all?"

"It was nearly enough from the sound of things."

"So it really is as bad as she said. Quite curious, don't you think?"

"I was not feeling the least bit curious about it, I can assure you."

"Care to let me take a peek at your memory of it?"

"No!" Draco occluded even more.

"You're no fun, Draco. You get this from your mother, you know."

"She's my _friend_ , father."

"Pity."

"I still can't believe you attacked her."

"It was hardly an attack. I wasn't hurting her physically."

"Thestral shite."

"Manners, Draco."

"Sorry, it's bollocks. Better?"

"Hmph. Do you think she'll still come to the gala?"

"I told her that she shouldn't."

"But I bet the Gryffindor princess couldn't abide breaking her word, could she?"

Draco gritted his teeth. "No, she wasn't too keen on the idea."

"Lovely. You see, Draco, a girl like that runs on danger. It's good to give her some now and again to keep her from getting bored."

"I hardly think she's bored."

"Well, she will be when she solves this little puzzle and Dolohov is forgotten like yesterday's Prophet."

"You think she really won't end up with him?"

"Come now, Draco, he's not that young and leaves a lot to be desired. Once this is over, she'll have him locked up and get on with her life."

"Then why doesn't she have him arrested now?"

"Because she feels like she can't. Not with her current problem. And I think she's getting addicted or soon will be."

"She's going on a date with him on Tuesday."

"Tuesday, hmmm? Well then I guess she'd better figure it out soon. The more they're together, the worse it will become."

"You say that like you know something."

"I may have some ideas."

"Care to share?"

"Not yet. I'm not completely certain of the solution and she's brash enough to try anything whether it's correct or not."

"This is Hermione Granger, researcher extraordinaire. She doesn't do anything without working out every possible consequence."

"Miss Granger has never been in this sort of situation before, has she? She doesn't like to be out of control. That is what she's so upset about."

"Well if you won't tell me about it, you'd better tell her. I mean it."

Lucius smirked again and changed the subject to the upcoming fundraiser, reminding Draco of his responsibilities for it.

* * *

Sunday flew by for Hermione. It was lovely seeing her friends, but difficult in that she had to avoid the many questions flung her way. After several hours, she made her excuses and went home. Antonin's flowers were still sitting in their vase taunting her.

On Monday she decided that she really did have to face Lucius. Books in tow, she flooed to the Manor where she went straight to the library to deposit them. To her astonishment, Lucius was there at a desk with several books open, his quill scratching out something on a piece of parchment.

"Lucius," she greeted him.

"Hermione," he returned. "So you've come into the wolf's lair, hmm? One might begin to think that you like being there."

"Fat chance. You just have something I need."

"Which is?"

"Knowledge."

His rich laugh startled her.

"Usually that isn't what women want from me."

"I'm not most women," she retorted.

"No, you certainly are not," he replied with a discomfiting smile.

"Cut the shite, Lucius. If you know anything, tell me. If not, I'm taking some books and leaving."

"Feeling brave, are we? How about if I trade you what I've found for.. hmmm.. a real kiss?" To hell with whatever Draco's problem was with him. He could do as he wished.

"Your head must be full of nargles if you think I'm going to have my lips anywhere near you ever again."

He'd already heard Draco explain what nargles were once, so he simply rolled his eyes. "Oh fine. I'll settle for a dance on Saturday."

"What?!"

"Come now, it will be the least you could do for me resolving your little issue."

"One dance and no hands on places that they shouldn't be."

"Agreed," he purred with delight. He loved when people left things up to his own interpretation. This almost meant that she had to attend now as well.

"Well, are you going to tell me?" she pressed.

"Excitable thing, aren't you?"

"And you're like a nasty bout of dragon pox," she replied sweetly.

He laughed again.

"Come back Wednesday. I'll tell you then."

"I need to know today, Lucius! I'm meeting Dolohov tomorrow for lunch."

"A lunch date with a murderer. How romantic."

"It got him out of my hair the other night."

"I'm sure that's not all it got him out of."

Hermione wished she could throttle the man. "Would it kill you to stop being a git for five minutes?" Somewhere in her head she couldn't believe she was talking to Lucius Malfoy like this, but since he decided to get rather personal with her, she figured she could take some liberties. After all, he couldn't magically attack her without going straight to Azkaban.

"I'm afraid I can't. My git-ness is innate." His tone was even but his silver eyes were dancing with mirth.

She made a noise of frustration. _'He's like Draco, but worse.'_

"Wednesday, no sooner. I can't let the Ministry's Golden Girl rush into anything I'm not certain of. Although," he paused and looked at her quite seriously. "I would avoid engaging in certain types of behaviour with Mr. Dolohov."

"I've avoided whatever I can, I can assure you."

"Well, you need to do better. It might be the fine line between finding the cure or not."

"Merlin, what if I've already crossed it!"

"You haven't. Yet. But he's going to keep trying until you willingly give in. And then it will be too late."

"What!"

"I'm rather certain that it will... bind you to him. Do you know what that means in Pureblood circles?"

"Binding means that you're with that person for life."

"And do you wish to be with him for that long?"

"I really don't know, but I probably don't."

"Keep that in mind then. That's all I can tell you today."

She wisely took that as a dismissal so after gathering another stack of books just in case, she promptly went back home.

* * *

That same morning Antonin Dolohov had been feeling pensive as he sat at the table in his own small cottage that was couched at the edge of a tiny village a few hours west of London. The polished wooden table was littered with bits of parchment, a few books, a mostly empty ink pot, and a rather used-looking quill. The fingertips that rolled a wand between them were stained with ink. He chewed on the thumbnail of the other hand absentmindedly while he eyes looked off into the distance. He had been doing his own careful research ever since he noticed Hermione doing the same - it wouldn't do to be caught off guard. Especially not if the Malfoys were involved. He had one thing that they didn't have though: books about his own family's magic.

When he had disappeared during the Battle of Hogwarts, it was first out of self-preservation. He had just found a magic that completely overwhelmed him, which meant that there was more out there than he'd experienced. He had mastered his own magic fairly young and his knack for charms made him a shoo-in to become a curse breaker for the goblins. It was rewarding work in its own way and paid extremely well, but unfortunately his association with Riddle and subsequent stint in Azkaban cost him his job. He saw how the war was going and knew that it was only a matter of time before the man, or whatever he'd become, would be taken down and he would be arrested again. So instead, he took his gold and ran, first to the continent where he slowly exchanged his galleons for Muggle money and then, when it seemed calm enough, back to England where he bought himself a house with cash. No one around him knew anything about his past, so he easily made himself the village recluse who was friendly enough to say hello to but who otherwise didn't get involved with anything or anyone.

His motivation during all that time was the memory of that jolt of magic between himself and that scrap of a girl, Hermione Granger. He really had meant to kill her when he ran into her again during the battle, but the second that he felt that buzz, he knew it was worth pursuing. His latest encounters with her were rewarding in their own way, getting him through the days in between until the high wore off and he had to chase it again. He only somewhat regretted his latest show of force, but only because it had sewn distrust. Even as she asked him to take her to lunch on Tuesday, he knew that she was trying to regain control of the situation. He let her because it suited his purposes. He would keep letting her if it helped her to see him differently.

As the day stretched on, he made more notes, occasionally scribbling out something he had already jotted down. It was while he was eating an early dinner, a simple bowl of stew with a bit of bread, that he came to the same conclusion that, unbeknownst to him, Lucius had earlier: this was binding magic. All he would have to do is get her to give herself completely to him and it would be sealed. _'All I have to do,'_ he thought with chagrin. Hermione was no easy witch to convince to do anything and nearly impossible to control, even for someone like himself. He was certainly going to have to be on his best behaviour during their little date. At the least suspicious movement, she would bolt and he'd have to start all over again. The main problem with this particular bit of binding magic is that both parties have to be willing. She was willing to a point, but she was still fighting. He would just have to seduce the fight out of her.

In truth he relished the challenge. He'd never done anything so difficult in his life. He had but one goal: finish what he started all those years ago.

* * *

That night when Draco arrived, she had the table set, dinner in the oven, and a freshly opened bottle of wine on hand.

"If this is a date, I've neglected to bring you chocolates," he said as he surveyed the table.

"It's not a date. I just wanted to do something nice to thank you."

Draco wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or disappointed.

"How was your day?" he began politely.

"Well, I saw your father."

Draco grimaced.

"No, it was fine. He told me he'd explain things more thoroughly on Wednesday, but that he has at least some idea of what is happening."

"But isn't tomorrow your big date?"

"It is and I was advised to avoid engaging in... um, avoid giving in.." she said, suddenly shy, "unless I want to be bound to Dolohov for life."

"Merlin, Hermione, that's serious! Do you think Dolohov knows that, too?"

"He might by now, but I'm not sure. I'm certainly not going to tell him!"

"No?"

"Draco, I'm rather sure that I loathe the man"

"You're _rather sure_?" he mocked.

"You don't understand. It's not always easy to think objectively."

"The man tried to kill you. He still might!"

"I don't want to talk about this."

"Why not, Hermione? You certainly can talk to my father about it."

"Your father has a way of coercing me into saying things. You know how he is."

"All the same..."

"Oh don't pout. It's just uncomfortable and with the way you acted the other night, well.."

"Right, it's better to talk about something else. So how was your weekend?"

She chattered away, right through dessert, a lovely chocolate mousse she'd picked up at a local shop, only just remembering to ask him about his own weekend. Draco left out the conversation with his father, but talked easily about the rest.

They were sitting together on the couch, tea in hand, when she reflected on how easy it was to talk with Draco about most things. Was it wrong that she couldn't bring herself to discuss the finer points of her current dilemma? What was she so afraid of? His reaction on Friday had made her uncomfortable, but she couldn't figure out why. She decided that being direct was the only way forward.

"Draco, about Friday-"

"You don't want to talk about it, so let's not."

"I've changed my mind."

"Why's that?"

"I can't keep letting this.. thing.. with Dolohov isolate me from those I care about."

"You.. care about me?"

"You're a good friend, Draco. Of course I do."

"Oh. Right."

"Is that a bad thing? Being my friend?"

"No, not at all. It feels like I'm doing something right for once."

"So my friendship is just to assuage your conscience?"

"That's not what I meant. Merlin, I always seem to say the wrong thing around you." He paused, agitated with himself. "I'm grateful to be counted as a friend.

"We've come a long way from being at each others' throats in school."

"You mean since I stopped being a bully."

She grinned. "Well, that, too."

"Alright then, talk to me."

"Friday night I just realised that the only way I could talk to him without him either attacking or forcing himself on me would be if I turned it on him. I'm sorry that I acted without telling you first. Everything happened so quickly and I knew I had to act. I didn't want you getting hurt and I didn't want him to keep hunting me. He hasn't been back as far as I know."

"I think I understood, even if I didn't like it. He's vile and I don't want you to underestimate him."

"Well, it all worked out in the end."

"Until tomorrow, you mean."

"Draco, why are you being so protective of me?"

"That night.. during the war and you were there, in my house and my insane aunt.. I swore that I would do my best from then on to protect you however I could."

"You couldn't have helped me then. You know that. But I could tell that you wished you were anywhere else and that was enough."

"Enough?"

"For me to know that you weren't really the evil git we all thought you were." She smiled.

"If that's how you compliment a man, Hermione, remind me to never get on your bad side again." He rubbed his nose and grinned.

"Don't be an arse, you know how foul you were some days. You deserved getting punched."

"I did."

"And you know I find you to be a decent wizard now."

"Only decent?" He smirked.

"I refuse to say more because I can't let your ego get any bigger or you won't fit in the fireplace to floo home."

He laughed.

"You don't want me to stay?"

"If I had a paper weight handy, I'd lob it at you."

"Yeah. You know, the office has been a bit boring without you there to annoy."

"Miss me that much?"

Draco bit back something just then as a funny look crossed his face. He caught himself and smirked. "Well none of your other friends react when I say something purposefully irritating. They just roll their eyes and keep working."

Hermione's immediate laugh made him relax.

He went home soon after, making a silly remark of how he still fit in the fireplace after all before he disappeared in a poof. A few minutes later, Hermione felt something strangely akin to disappointment.


	8. A Date with Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes on a date with Dolohov in London. Seems like a harmless thing to do, doesn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Warning: abusive behaviour ahead!

In spite of the fact that she was going to spend the afternoon with Dolohov, Hermione decided to treat it as a real date. Was the magic really beginning to effect her mind? She wasn't sure. She dressed in a nice top and thin blazer with her favorite capris and strappy sandals for their afternoon of shopping.

She didn't want to have to deal with the early lunch crowds, so she apparated to the Leaky early and then slowly made her way to the closest tube stop. She was grateful to have missed the morning rush as the train noisily sped beneath the city, affording her a seat and space to pull out a pen as she made herself a shopping list on the back of a scrap bit of parchment. She was desperately in need of something to wear for the gala, but would Dolohov really be the best shopping partner? She reasoned she could at least look for shoes and find the dress another day. She was also in need of a new pen, sighing when she had difficulty with the current one. Nearing her stop, she rose from her seat and moved toward the door. She exited the train and made her way to busy the streets above.

She checked her watch and saw that she still have a good ten minutes to spare. Not one to waste time, she took out her list again and jotted down a few groceries to pick up on the way home. She was writing the last item when someone loomed over her.

"Making lists again?" Antonin hovered over her, craning his neck to see what she was writing. He was wearing leather brogues, denims, and a nice shirt with the top button undone. His dark hair was tucked behind his ears. And was that.. cologne?

"It helps me remember." She bit her lip out of nervousness. 'Now if only I could remember at all times today who I'm with,' she thought. His ability to make her want to forget was a liability.

He smiled. "Do you like asian fusion?"

"Yeah, sounds great," she chirped as she slipped her list into her pocket.

To her surprise, lunch was actually quite good and Dolohov wasn't the worst company she'd ever kept. He was strangely polite and she found that they have many mutual interests.

"So where've you been since the war?" she asked finally as she finished the last of her noodle bowl.

"Laying low. Keeping to myself. Trying to find you."

"Why me?"

"Our magic," he said in a low tone. "I couldn't forget that feeling if I tried."

"Then why did you accost me?"

"You could say that I'm still relearning how to be a gentleman." His smile was somewhere between friendly and sinister as if he couldn't make up his mind how to present himself.

"I have rather high expectations, you know."

"Of that I have no doubt, Golden Girl."

Hermione smirked, which surprised herself. Perhaps she'd been around the Malfoys too much.

"Are you ready to come shopping with me?"

"If my presence is welcome."

"Come along then." She nodded her head toward the door.

His hand brushed the small of her back as they joined the crowds outside and she was thankful for the extra layers of fabric that barricaded her skin. She noticed as they walked that he found various ways to touch her- her shoulder, her side, occasionally brushing his hand against hers which made her want to jump out of her skin.

"What are we shopping for then?"

"I need a new pen, a pair of nice shoes and a few groceries."

"You list seemed a bit longer than that."

"I'm not buying everything today."

He seemed to accept that answer as he followed her into a shop crammed with greeting cards, pens, pads of paper, and various novelty items.

"I love this shop," she admitted. "There's nothing like it in the Alley."

He agreed and watched her as she looked at nearly everything in the shop, settling on a ridiculous pen that had a unicorn perched on the top and a small journal that was in a discount bin. He thought it all a bit mundane compared to Wizard things, but he knew that she grew up Muggle. Perhaps it's a comfort thing.

To Hermione, Dolohov seemed more comfortable that she expected and she began to understand how he was able to hide so well. He looked like everyone else and wasn't constantly gawking. In fact, he was so convincing that she nearly forgot that he was one of the Sacred Twenty-eight. Her thoughts drifted to how someone like Draco, or worse, Lucius would react and laughed quietly to herself as she waited in line to pay.

"What are you so tickled about?"

"Oh, just imagining some other friends in a shop like this."

He raised an eyebrow. "I pass the test, then?"

"We'll see if you survive the rest of the afternoon," she replied with a wink.

She paid for her items, placed them in her bag, and he followed her out the door.

Finding shoes that she liked proved to be more of a challenge and it was close to two hours and a pause for a cuppa later, after browsing in several stores and trying on varied styles, that she at last decided on a pair of beige peep-toe heels with elastic ankle straps.

"A bit tame, aren't they?" he asked after she paid the woman at the counter.

"They'll get more use that way."

"Are you usually so practical?"

"I don't want to spend all my money on shoes." She tucked her bag over her wrist as they went out the door.

"I'd be glad to pay, you know."

"Absolutely not. I'm a modern witch, Antonin. I don't need your galleons."

"So you're not with the Malfoys for theirs then?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but no," she scoffed. "That's the furthest thing from my mind. Draco is my friend and Lucius is someone I loathe."

Dolohov chuckled.

"I don't care for him, either. And the feeling is mutual, I can assure you."

"I'm not interested in your Death Eater politics, you know."

"And yet you don't feel the need to ostracize us?"

"What's done is done. And so long as you don't do it again, well, I'm willing to give people a second chance."

"Have you honestly given me one?"

"I.. well... I think today counts as one."

"You know what I mean though. It's different with us."

"In what way?"

He grasped her hand tightly in his own, a frisson jolting up their arms "In _that_ way."

She sucked in her breath and tried to steady herself. "Other things are just as important as magic."

"It's enough for me."

"That's where we're different, Antonin."

"I think you don't understand what it means."

"Even if I did, it's still not enough to make a decision about how I truly feel."

"That's only because you think too much. It's everything, Hermione. Everything." He suddenly turned and grabbed both of her hands as he pulled her around the corner of a building.

"Don't, Antonin," she gasped, uncertain of what this was leading to.

Suddenly she felt the tug of apparation and tried to scream.

* * *

Upon landing, he paralysed her so that she couldn't fight back. She attempted to remain calm and think things through. She didn't recognise wherever she was although it was certainly someone's house. Was this his house? Dolohov stepped into view and felt around, looking for her wand. Rightfully assuming it must be in her bag, he found and locked it in a cupboard.

"Now, little rabbit, we need to talk and you haven't been very good at listening. That's why I brought you here, where you'll be less distracted. No one apart from myself can apparate from within the house and it's not connected to the Floo network. There will be no escape. If you try to attack me, I will bind you again. Do you understand?"

He paused with a sinister smile.

"Finite incantatum," he whispered.

Hermione collapsed onto the floor, her paper shopping bags tumbling from her wrist with a crash. He rushed to her side and picked her up, placing her onto his small sofa like some sort of living doll.

"Hermione, my darling, I'll take such good care of you," he whispered as he brushed the curls back from her face. "You'll be so happy here with me."

Her brows drew together in anger and she shivered, but said nothing.

"I'll show you," he soothed, stroking her face. "You've had a long day and you're probably getting hungry. Stay right here and I'll make us a little something, ok?"

She stayed silent, but he left anyway to busy himself in the tiny kitchen. She took the time to finally look around at her new prison. The house was actually rather nice in spite of its occupant, cosy and inviting. Only she wasn't a guest, she was a prisoner. She wondered where she was exactly, but stayed put, vowing to catch a glimpse out the windows later. She reflected on what Lucius and Draco had both told her about Dolohov and she was angry with herself once more for not listening. She should never have went with him alone. Or better still, she should have never agreed to it in the first place. She couldn't believe that she'd been such a fool.

When Dolohov reappeared, he took her by the hand and led her across the room to a small table and chairs that had been, just the day before, littered with books and parchment. A few small ink stains marred the wooden surface. She sat obediently and waited again. The table was already set, spoon, fork and glass. He brought out two steaming bowls of a pasta and veg dish that he announced was a primavera, another smaller bowl containing grated parmesan, and pitcher of water.

"I apologise for the simplicity, Hermione, but I hope that you'll like it all the same." He reached over and squeezed her hand. She wanted to react, but fought against it, staring emptily at the table.

"Cheers then," he grumbled and began eating.

After a few minutes, she did the same, hoping that he didn't poison her. No, she supposed that wasn't his objective. Yet.

The silent meal was a stark contrast to lunch at the restaurant. To Hermione it was like a chess match, but she wasn't the best tactician. However, cold logic indicated that Dolohov must be desperate. Perhaps desperate enough to make a mistake. She could hope.

The meal finished, he took her by the elbow and led her up the narrow stairs to his bedroom. She walked to the window, but she saw only trees. Not helpful. While she looked, he came behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle, tucking his thumbs under her top. The magic flared to life in her skin and her heart skipped a beat.

"I've never known you to be so silent," he whispered along her ear.

She bit her tongue to keep from responding. What would he do?

"I'm sure you're wondering where you are, but I'm afraid I can't tell you that just yet. But you'll be safe here. You're safe with me, Hermione."

He nuzzled into her neck, lips brushing just below her jaw.

"I know you feel the same as I, how it feels like fire in your veins, makes you come alive in ways you didn't know were possible. I want to help you feel it all the time. Wouldn't that be lovely, my beautiful?"

His palms slowly engulfed her midsection and she squeezed her thighs together. Her heart beat faster and she gasped for air.

"Yesss," he groaned, pressing his body against her back, wanting her to know what she did to him.

"Antonin," she breathed.

"Mmmm?"

"Please.. stop." It was all she could do to say that second word, clinging to the warning Lucius left her with.

"Why should I? Fuck, how do you not want this?"

"I..."

He kissed his way to the base of her neck and she sighed in spite of herself.

"Tell me you want it."

"N-no."

"You know that no one wants you like I do. I'd do anything to have you, give you everything."

"No..." she sighed again.

"You'll eventually give in, Hermione. It's the only way."

"No!" she forced herself to shout.

He slid his hands from her and shoved her onto the nearby bed.

"You don't get to keep telling me 'no'," he said in a menacing tone.

"I'm not yours, Antonin!" she replied firmly, head slightly clearer in the absence of his touch.

He narrowed his eyes. "You're as good as."

"I. Am. Not!"

And that was when he made his second mistake of the day: he slapped her face. But she had driven him to it, he told himself. _She wasn't listening. She needed to listen._

Tears spilled onto her reddened cheek. He was instantly filled with regret. Mostly because now it was going to be more difficult to get her to cooperate.

"Shit, look what you made me do. I wouldn't have done that if you wouldn't have shouted at me like that. Let me take a look now."

He kneeled on the bed and bent over her as she cowered. He whispered a spell and the pain and swelling melted away. He guided her backward, laying her down. He crawled over her, looking down into her eyes. Fear and anger. His mouth twitched.

"Better now?"

"I want to go home," she whimpered.

"This is your home now."

"No."

"I don't want to accidentally hurt you again."

"Doesn't matter."

"Mmmm, but it does.." He pulled open her jacket and inched her blouse up as high as he could, admiring her body as he did so.

"Such a perfect scar," he sighed. "It's my scar. You can't tell me 'no' forever."

He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto a nearby chair. Hermione tried to brace herself for what would come next.

He lowered himself slowly onto her, bringing their torsos together, skin to skin, and the delicious torture licked at Hermione's mind.

"So fucking good," he groaned and wished he'd already taken off his jeans.

"I need to use the loo," she squeaked.

"You better not be lying."

"I swear I'm not."

Glowering, he rolled off of her so that she could get up. She hurried away, grateful for an escape, however brief. The bathroom was just on the other side of the hallway that also joined the staircase to the lower floor. After she relieved herself and washed her hands, she took a moment to splash water on her face.

' _C'mon Hermione, use your head_ ,' she thought angrily. _'There has to be a way out.'_

Hermione returned to find herself the sole occupant of the bedroom. She could hear him doing something downstairs, but wanted to make the most of her time alone. The room itself, built under the eaves of the house, was mostly empty apart from a bed, a rug that covered most of the wooden floor, and a typical wizard's trunk. Even the walls were bare. She started to feel along the windowsill, but received a large jolt of pain the moment she touched it. Cursing, she backed away and sat on the bed to think.

She was growing more anxious by the minute. When she finally checked her wristwatch, more than an hour had passed. She stood, stretched, and peered out the window once more. The sun was slowly beginning to set. She wondered when anyone would notice her absence. Maybe not until Saturday when she doesn't show for the fundraiser. Would that be too late? She was never too keen on playing the damsel in distress, but perhaps she wouldn't mind, just this once, for a rescue. She should have listened to Draco.

* * *

About the same time that Hermione was admitting that he had been right after all, Draco popped into Hermione's flat. He'd had an exhausting day of investigating several houses because of a recent series of break-ins and filling out the appropriate forms. He was already late for dinner, but he'd thought to stop by before going home.

"How was your date?" he called out.

He heard Crookshanks mewling at his empty bowl and he quickly swept through the flat, but she wasn't there. Something felt off to Draco. He fed the half-kneazle before leaving, he then headed straight to Harry's via floo.

"Potter!" he called out as he stepped from the fireplace.

A confused Harry came down the stairs.

"Malfoy? What's going on?"

"Have you seen Hermione?"

"Since when are you two on a first name basis?"

"Answer my question, Potter. It's important."

"I haven't seen her since Sunday. Why, something wrong?"

"I'll let you know." And he stepped back into the fireplace, this time to see his father.

When he arrived at the Manor, he ran down the hall and burst into Lucius's study moments later.

"Has Hermione been here today?" The words were out of his mouth before he was even in the room.

"Why no, Draco, I thought she was out on her little date."

"She wasn't at home."

"Maybe she didn't want to come home yet?"

"Even Potter hasn't seen her."

"Does she have to report to you and Mr. Potter every time she goes somewhere?"

"Of course not, but she hasn't even been back to feed her cat. I think something's happened to her."

"Your friend Miss Granger is more than capable of handling herself."

"With Dolohov? Hardly. I'm getting Potter and whoever else I can find."

Draco stalked off and floo-called Harry.

"She's not with the Weasles?" Harry rolled his eyes. Some things haven't really changed.

"No, I just talked to Gin. They haven't seen her since Sunday brunch."

"I think something's wrong. I'm sending an owl to Robards. Meet at mine in an hour. I'll explain then."

Harry agreed and Draco hurried to scrawl a message to their boss telling him there is an urgent missing persons case. Robards agreed to send over several Aurors that were on call and insisted on receiving a report as soon as possible.

At around 8pm, Draco, Harry, Ron and 3 other Aurors, Keith Sullivan, Lawrence Gibbett, and Gerald Haaverson, were gathered in the Malfoy sitting room.

"So, why are we here, Malfoy?" asked Ron. "You said it's urgent?"

"Let me explain and no one interrupt until I've finished, yeah?" His face was grim.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Hermione Granger has been dealing with something rather personal and didn't want to talk about it. But as soon as my father was involved-"

"What!" shouted Ron, but Harry elbowed him.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"When she involved my father, she inadvertently involved me as well. It's her story to tell, but what you need to know is that there's a dangerous wizard who's been pursuing her. She went somewhere in Muggle London to meet with him today and hasn't come home. It was only supposed to be for the afternoon and I'm concerned that something has gone wrong."

"Who is this man, Draco?" Harry asked.

At that moment, Lucius walked into the room and pronounced the name everyone wished he hadn't: "Antonin Dolohov."

Everyone but Draco looked at him in shock.

"And you knew about it?" Ron snapped.

"I knew something about it," Lucius answered cooly.

"Come again?" said Harry.

"Let me, Father. I should have arrested the bastard last week when I had the chance. I tried to tell her to stay away from him, but she couldn't be persuaded. Potter, Weasley, I'm sure you know exactly what I mean. But I know I'm at fault for not following her today."

"And why didn't you?" Gibbett asked.

"Hermione made me promise not to. Not yet. But I shouldn't have agreed to that. We've got to find him. Tonight."

"I hardly doubt you'll find him tonight, son." Lucius interjected. "But if I'm right about her 'problem', time may be of the essence."

Draco shot him a worried look.

"Just be grateful that she's such a strong-willed witch. Good night, gentlemen." Lucius walked away without further explanation.

The men looked at each other in silence, taking in the scant information they had to work with.

Haaverson broke the silence. "So what you're saying is that Hermione Granger has gotten herself kidnapped. By Antonin Dolohov."

* * *

Antonin came back upstairs an hour and thirty minutes later.

"You're still here," he grinned darkly.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course. You can choose to stay or I can make you stay. What shall it be, Hermione?" He sat down next to her on the bed.

"I need time to think about it."

"Take as much time as you need. Neither of us will be going anywhere." He cradled her jaw wish an ink-stained hand, thumb brushing her cheek. The magic rushed at her again, a pleasant, calming wave that threatened to lull her into its snare. When she finally dared to look up, the intensity of his gaze startled her.

"So lovely," he murmured.

She realised that she must have made a face because he moved a finger to cover her lips.

"It's true."

He pressed his lips to her forehead.

"The magic between us is getting stronger. It won't be long now. You'll see things my way."

She shivered.

"It's time for us to go to bed. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

He gave her one of his own nightshirts and left so that she could change. When he returned, she was already under the quilt. He gleefully stripped to his pants, pulled on his own pajamas and joined her. She tried to put as much space between them as possible in the bed, but he cornered her against the wall.

"Go to sleep, Hermione. You need your rest." He wrapped his arms around the quivering woman and let their magic soothe them to sleep.

* * *

Draco and the other Aurors sat around a large table, in the center a map marked with the last known information of Dolohov's whereabouts. They discussed a possible strategy while Snicker the elf plied them with snacks and coffee. It was decided that Draco and Sullivan would look into a few places they had circled on the map. Harry would go with Gibbett to Azkaban to question several Death Eaters, and Ron and Haaverson would head back to the Ministry to check through the file Hermione had on Dolohov before checking two other possible locations. Harry provided them each with a charmed badge to be pinned inside their cloak that they could activate in case of emergency or if they find her, but otherwise they agreed to meet back at the Manor in four hours if nothing turned up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm glad so many people are enjoying this. :D


	9. It's Your Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione spends the morning trapped with her (least) favourite wizard while the others race to find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

The sun was streaming in the small bedroom window when Hermione awoke in the arms of the wizard of her recent nightmares. It was then that the events of the day before flooded back into her mind. Antonin was determined to have his way. How could she stall for time?

He felt her stirring and blinked open his grey eyes. He pressed a kiss to the top of her curly head and inhaled her scent. She smelled like summer.

"Good morning, sweet Hermione," he murmured.

She made a noncommittal sound.

"Today will be better. I promise."

She doubted it, but burrowed into his chest.

* * *

Draco awoke in a sweat, heart racing. As his bedroom came into focus, he thought through the previous night. Everything they'd tried had amounted to nothing. No one had heard from Dolohov, seen him, or had any idea where he might be. Every place they had tried was a false lead. He had royally fucked up.

The others were coming at 9. A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was already 8, so he stumbled off to shower, shave, and clear his head before getting to work.

* * *

Antonin was delighted to still have the witch in his arms. He was sure that he would never tire of her.

"Shall we go have some breakfast?" he offered, releasing her from his embrace.

A groggy "yes" sufficed and he padded across the rug and down to the kitchen.

Hermione pushed her curls away from her face with a sigh. She'd slept like a rock from the steady magical hum that coursed through her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so long. That wasn't a bad thing, right? Looking around the room, she spied her discarded clothing and pulled it back on, refusing to go downstairs in only Dolohov's nightshirt.

On the table already were a couple of mugs, two steaming bowls of porridge, a jar of honey, and bananas. He pulled out her chair for her.

"I hope this'll do."

"It's fine, thanks," she answered politely.

"Coffee or tea?"

"Coffee with milk, please." He stepped away and returned moments later with a small pot of coffee and bottle of milk. He poured first hers and then his own, adding a splash of milk to both. After placing the mug next to her bowl, he sat down with his own. Dolohov sliced up a banana for each of them and offered her a spoon of honey, which she accepted.

"Right. Cheers then," he said now that breakfast was ready.

"Cheers."

Breakfast was quiet, but not in the same way that dinner was the evening before. At least, Hermione didn't find the atmosphere to be quite as tense even though he still watched her intently. She was nearly finished with her bowl when she dared to speak up.

"How long have you lived here?"

"Long enough to know my way around the area," he replied vaguely.

"Why here then?"

"It's quiet and everyone thinks I like to be left alone."

"Do you have any neighbors?"

"Yes, but not too close."

He was beginning to get suspicious and narrowed his eyes.

"I see," she replied. "Sometimes it's nice to have a little bit of space. That's the only problem with my flat." His body seemed to relax slightly and she congratulated herself with her quick thinking. "I've always wondered what it would be like to live out in the country."

"I.. yes, it's quite good."

"So what have you been doing out here?"

"Reading, some research, looking for you.. " he watched her reaction, which was a mere polite nod.

She continued asking him mundane questions, hoping for a small clue, a glimmer of something that would help her escape. It wasn't until they finished cleaning up from breakfast that he turned and grasped her hand, pulling her close and smoothing back her curls to look down into her face.

"Hermione, what will it take to convince you?"

"To be given the freedom to make up my own mind."

"You've had years for that. And these last weeks, you've had every moment of every day to make your decision."

"And what if I would have told you 'no'?"

"Impossible." He gripped her tighter, uncomfortably so. "Maybe you haven't figured it out, but it's too late now to back out now. We're as good as married."

"I'm not bound to you yet!" she squeaked.

"Ahh, so you know why our magic reacts the way that it does," he sneered. Hermione inwardly cursed for letting that slip. "Then you'll also know that you should have bound yourself to someone else before our binding was completed. But I think now it's probably time for us to do something about that."

Hermione glared at him but said nothing.

"I suggest that you have a bath, relax, and then we'll talk about this."

Hermione reluctantly went upstairs for a bath after making Antonin swear that he would not use magic to unlock the door. She was grateful for the hot water and the fact that it bought her a little more time away from him.

* * *

The Aurors were prepared that morning for a day of undercover work. Everyone was required to have Muggle attire and Robards had even provided them with fake police badges and ID. Over a quick coffee, Harry briefed them on some Muggle police protocol and reminded them of some behavioural tips in order to avoid an incident with the actual Muggle police. Before leaving from the garden to fly over several areas, they disillusioned themselves and their brooms. The plan was to cast magic detection charms and occasionally speak to locals about anything suspicious beginning in Muggle London near where Hermione was purported to have met with Dolohov and gradually work outwards, each Auror in a different direction. They would meet again at 8pm at the Manor unless she was found. Though he didn't say so in front of the others, to Draco it seemed like a hopeless prospect, like searching for a knut at the bottom of the Black Lake.

* * *

Hermione sat there until the water began to grow cold, deeply regretting that she hadn't studied wider varieties of wandless magic. The fact was, having an office job meant that the sort of magic she'd recently gained any new proficiency in was more for researching, filing, and taking copious notes. She had thought that her days of dueling dark wizards was behind her. With waning courage, she tried a simple warming charm on the water, whispering the words in hopes that something, anything would happen. The water merely gave off a tiny puff of steam and she sank back against the side of the tub, deflated.

 _'So much for being the brightest witch of my age,_ ' she thought wryly. What Professor Lupin would think of her now, held hostage and at her wit's end, she didn't even want to think about. A faint twisted smile appeared on her face when she then thought about how furious Harry would be if he even knew the pickle she had found herself in. She'd be grateful for a tongue lashing if it meant that she was free.

She let the water drain from the tub before bothering to climb out and dry off with the towel left for her.

There was a pounding on the door.

"There is clean clothing for you on the bed. Come downstairs when you're dressed." Antonin's voice was neutral and she didn't know what to make of it.

"Ok," she called out. Should she thank him? She decided a simple 'ok' would have to pass muster. Is one polite to their captor, especially if he is likely to explode the moment she says something he finds unpleasant? She decided to save any thanks until after she discovered what said clothing resembled. She listened to the faint sound of his footsteps retreating down the wooden stairs and turned the key in the lock. She peered around the door and, seeing that she was indeed alone, scurried into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She checked to be sure that her bag was there in the room and spotted it at the foot of the bed, next to her shopping bags. Content that her things were still present for the moment, she stood up to look at whatever clothing Antonin had provided for her.

On the bed was a rose-coloured dress with wide gathered straps and a skirt that would easily fall to her knees. There were no undergarments. She made a face, but pulled the dress on over her head and was pleased that at the very least it fit her. It was rather form fitting on top, but flared out at the waist, a band of embroidered flowers in nearly the same color as the dress near the hem of the skirt. She walked back to the bathroom, hung up the towel and looked in the mirror at herself. The dress suited her complexion and she supposed it could have been infinitely worse: she could have been given nothing or something worse than nothing. Her hair, of course, was out of control, but this wasn't a beauty pageant and she had no one she cared to impress. She snorted at the very thought, roughly ran her fingers through her curls, and headed down the stairs.

Antonin audibly sucked in a breath when he saw Hermione and she held back a smirk as a plan started to form in Hermione's mind. For all of Antonin Dolohov's strengths, he was also, at the moment, a man drowning in obsession. She just hoped that it wouldn't backfire. She walked boldly toward him, hips swaying and placed her hands flat on his chest.

"Thank you for the dress," she said huskily.

His hands were on her in an instant, igniting bare skin when his thumbs caressed above her dress.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured into her hair. He planted a soft kiss on the top of her head while his hands continued to stroke her back, lower with each pass.

Hermione had to catch her breath and push through the current of magic that threatened to pull her under. It reminded her briefly of the time she had nearly be dragged out to sea by the tide. In her mind, she dug her toes into the sands of reason and logic, hoping to find purchase.

She forced herself to take a step backward, reaching for his hands as she did so as not to alarm him.

"Come sit with me." Her soft voice soothed his flash of irritation and he let himself be led to the couch. He quickly took control and sat first, pulling her into his lap. She went along with it and leaned against him.

"I thought it would be nice if we got to know one another a bit more before... before tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" His voice was laced with suspicion.

She quickly took one of his hands in her own.

"Tomorrow is when I'll give you my answer."

"I don't know if I can wait until tomorrow."

Running her hand along his jaw, she pleaded gently with him. "Please? I could use one more day."

"Kiss me now and I'll consider it."

"I don't know..."

"You'd better make it worth the wait for me, hadn't you?" And he brought his lips to hers in a searing kiss. It was like being slowly consumed as his mouth gently coaxed her own to open further, allowing his tongue to flick along her own. He groaned at her taste and the pulsing between her legs steadily grew. Desperate to hold on to the little control she had, she slowly broke the kiss and pulled away, her eyes locking with his. She felt the hunger in them both and it was all she could do to not let it go further.

She inquired about his bookshelf and with some reluctance he showed her the books that he had recently acquired, careful to avoid his family grimoire that he had charmed to look like a book about South American plants. She sat at the table and leafed through various tomes at while he read over he shoulder, giving her the occasional caress or pressing his lips to her skin while he toyed with her curls. The waiting game was eating him alive and he wasn't sure how long he was going to last.

"Hermione," he whispered. "I need you. And I know that you need me, too." He placed his hands on her midsection as he nuzzled her cheek.

She bit back a groan that would have only encouraged him and turned to the next page, frantically trying to ignore the throbbing between her legs.

His hands went higher, cupping her breasts and brushing his thumbs against her hardening nipples.

"So beautiful."

"Please let me read," she ground out.

"Come on, let me have just a little taste?"

"Actually, I'm getting a bit hungry."

"So am I," he purrred.

"Not.. not like that."

"Mmm, pity." He began pushing her straps from her shoulders, eager to see more of her.

"Please, Antonin," she whined.

"I think it's time for the first course."

He wrenched her chair away from the table.

"Incarcerous," he sneered, making ropes wind their way around her arms, binding her to the chair.

He pulled down the top of her dress and looked over her in admiration.

"Such lovely tits," he moaned, pulling at her nipples. Her face vacillated between disgust and pleasure. "Imagine how nicely they'll swell up once I've fucked a baby into you. What an honor that will be, giving birth to a new generation of Dolohovs."

"I'm not having your child," she groaned.

"You will, you'll do your duty like a good girl." His voice grew hard. "As my wife, you will be obligated."

"It's a good thing I'm not your wife then."

"Not yet. But soon."

He stood and grabbed his keys. "I'm going out. You can sit there now and think all you'd like." She heard the door slam and a key turn in the lock.

The house grew silent and she wished more than anything she had her wand. She looked over at the offending cabinet and at her bound arms. It would be too obvious if he returned and she was unbound, but what if..?

"Alohamora," she said in a firm voice. Nothing.

She did it again. Even a third, fourth, and eighth try resulted in failure. She took a deep, calming breath, and tried to reach down into her magic the way she had to do when she had first learned the Accio spell. Through gritted teeth she hissed the word, willing the cabinet to unlock. She heard a tiny click and wanted to whoop with joy.

* * *

Draco was trying not to lose hope. London was, of course, a dead end, but the surrounding sprawl that he checked was equally a waste of time. When he stopped to eat a bit of lunch, he sent a message to Harry.

_"Any luck?"_

_"Not yet."_

Draco sighed and bit into his sandwich. He was presently lost in his thoughts while he chewed, only interrupted several minutes later when he received another message.

_"Don't worry, we'll find her."_

Why would Potter be reassuring him? he mused. Unless he suspected something. Leave it to the Boy Wonder to pick up on something that even he was entirely sure about just yet.

 _"Thanks,"_ he finally signaled back. He let out a string of curses. If anything should happen to her, it would merely add to the chain of nightmares that all centered around her. Only this time he would be the sole person responsible. He tried not to dwell on it.

What did his father say yesterday? _'Just be grateful that she's such a strong-willed witch.'_ The man ought to know, he thought darkly. He still couldn't believe how his father treated her. Most of her life Lucius saw her at worst as an abomination, at best a challenge. And now a conquest? It was twisted. But was he any better? He polished off his bottle of water and remounted his broom. He had to be the better Malfoy. He'd never be worthy of her attention, but he felt that he had to at least prove that his intentions were only for her good. Even if it cost him his own happiness.

* * *

Antonin returned 20 minutes later with food. Hermione tried to look impassive, but her stomach growled. He sneered at her.

"Hungry, are you? And do you think I should share with you?"

"You don't have to be cruel."

His glare knifed through her like ice.

"You're the one who is cruel. Your very being torments me, drives me to need things I have never desired. If you would have just died like all my other sensible targets, I wouldn't be going mad with desire. Look at you, with your untamable hair, wide eyes, swollen lips, your tits begging for attention - it's no wonder that all I can think about is fucking you senseless. And when I touch your skin, it's like I'm on fire - like if I don't fuck you I'm going to combust. I refuse to spend the rest of my life like this."

He strode into the kitchen and grabbed a fork and two glasses. He sat down next to Hermione and looked her over with a leer. It was clear by the set of her jaw that she was still fighting, helpless as she looked. He licked his lower lip and raised his eyes to meet her glare.

"I brought back some curry. Should I share with you? Or are you too good to eat my food now, too?"

Hermione thought carefully how to respond as he opened his takeaway box. It smelled incredible and she was quite hungry. She thought about summoning her wand, but it wasn't time just yet.

"I.. I never said that I was too good for you. I'm no one special anyway."

"What a load of dragon shite. You're the fucking Golden Girl."

"Did you think I asked for that name?"

"Pff, you were busying saving the world from bad wizards like me."

"Bad perhaps, but not irredeemable."

"What do you know of redemption?" he spat. "Forget about it. Now open up that pretty little mouth before I change my mind."

Antonin found a perverse pleasure in feeding her like that, half naked and unable to run away. He tried not to think too much about all the things he'd like to do to her like that. First, she needed to eat. He was perhaps a bit cruel, but she was also a powerful witch who had to voluntarily bind herself to him. He assumed that eating in front of her without sharing might be a step too far. Yes, by sharing, he seemed benevolent, he thought to himself. He didn't truly hate her. In fact, he was achingly desperate for her. He was even fairly sure that he could love her if she would just agree to be his wife.

The plate emptied and glasses drained, he took them to the kitchen and returned with a damp cloth and a small chocolate cake. He sat down and lovingly wiped her lips like a mother would her child. The cake was hot and molten chocolate oozed out of the center when he cut it open. He took a forkful, blew on it and offered it to her lips. Silently, Hermione took a bite. Damn him, it was delicious. She felt something splash on her chest.

Antonin tutted. "How careless of me." He bent down and licked the chocolate off of her right breast. "We can't let good chocolate go to waste, can we?"

He smirked and ate a bite of cake himself, tongue flicking out of catch the bit at the corner of his mouth. He gleefully watched her eyes follow his movements. Yes, he would wear her down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope to get the next chapter out by the end of next week. Thanks for your patience! This is un-beta'd, so I tend to reread over a few days to catch any glaring errors. I'm so thankful that people are enjoying this. A special thanks to everyone who has favourited or commented so far. <3 I'm finishing this story for you!
> 
> Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. At the beginning of last week, I got some pretty terrible news about a dear friend that I'm still working through. Please, if you know someone who is struggling with depression or harmful thoughts, be sure to reach out to them. And if you're struggling personally, reach out to someone, anyone, even me if I can help. I guarantee you that someone somewhere loves you.


	10. A Desperate Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione decides to make a break for it. Will she make it out before the Aurors arrive? Will they need to save her? Will any of it work?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leaving kudos, and for your comments!

Hermione was feeling more on edge by the minute. The edge of what, she wasn't sure just yet, but it couldn't be good. Antonin had finished with the cake by eating more of it off of her than she cared to think about. When she asked to be able to go wash herself, he merely laughed. It was more than an hour later that he finally untied her so that she could go to the loo. She washed herself of any sticky residue while there and righted her dress. Her eyes seemed to blaze as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. It was time, she decided.

When she went back downstairs, Antonin seemed to be elsewhere. She went straight to the kitchen, grabbed her wand from the cupboard, and relocked it.

She stalked out, wand pointed as she looked for the wizard.

"Stupefy!" he snarled, popping into view. _He must have been disillusioned_ , she realised.

She quickly dodged and shouted "Protego!"

"Flippendo!" he returned.

She started casting stinging hexes one after another as he disappeared in a haze of smoke. Objects began flying at her from all directions as she backed into a wall and put up another shield charm.

"Impedimenta!" Her cry was followed by a noise and she assumed that she finally had landed a hit.

Without hestitation, she cast her patronus.

"Get hel-"

A curse hit her squarely in the chest and her head flew back into the wall. Hermione collapsed without another word.

When she came to, she was lying on the table with Antonin peering down at her, his wand at her throat. Her dress had scorch marks and she was sure that she was covered in bruises.

 _Did her patronus work? Will it get to someone?_ she wondered.

Guessing her frantic thoughts, he smirked.

"Still think someone might come save you, hmm, little rabbit? I had a feeling you were up to something and I knew you'd go for your wand sooner or later. If you so much as try to move right now, I'll simply tie you down again." She suppressed the urge to scream, knowing that he would likely enjoy it. "I've tried reasoning with you, seducing you, and romancing you, but don't think that our little duel has put me off. I think now it might be time to show you how determined I can be."

His eyes glinted like feral cat's. He picked up a small glass bottle from the table and held it in view as he uncorked it. He grabbed her by the jaw and, squeezing her mouth open, poured its contents into her mouth. When it hit her tongue, it tasted like sweet cream. That was her last thought before everything seemed to slow down and she grew suddenly warm.

"I'm sure you've heard of lust potion, little rabbit. This is my own special blend. It doesn't compel you to do anything, so it's not illegal. It does, however, act on any personal inclinations you already have. Think of it as something that prevents you from overthinking. And by the time it wears off, you'll be enjoying yourself so much that you won't even notice."

Hermione tried to hang onto his words, to understand what he was saying, but her eyes kept going to his mouth, watching it move, and began to feel the itch to kiss him. Somewhere in her head she wasn't sure it was a good idea, but she then she remembered how his lips felt on her earlier and sighed.

Antonin, watching her with anticipation, knew from her sigh that the potion had worked.

* * *

A good thirty minutes away as the crow flies, Auror Keith Sullivan was in a small village, walking out of a pub when something silver caught his eye. He went behind the building and the glistening form of an otter danced into view. Was that a... patronus? It quickly darted away and he decided to follow it, disillusioning himself and the broom he'd shrunk to fit in his pocket. He flew across the countryside, passing over several villages, each smaller than the last. He hoped to Merlin that he was doing the right thing.

* * *

Antonin had crawled onto the sturdy table, hovering over Hermione, boxing her in. Her cheeks were flushed and her hands that were once clenched into fists were uncurled and eager. He leaned down to kiss her and, sweet Morgana, was it the best kiss he had ever participated in. Her lips were velvety and plump with need, her tongue flicking along his own as she brought her hands up and clutched at his shirt, pulling him ever closer until her nimble fingers unfastened button after button until they could dance upon his bare chest. The magic roared in his head as he begin kissing along her neck, her shoulder, all the way to that special place, to her scar that branded her as his own. She writhed beneath him, her fingers in his hair, a leg wrapping around his back.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmured as he began pushing her dress up, his hands caressing her thighs. He climbed off the table and pulled her toward the end where he stood. Her hair was fanned out behind her, her eyes wild. She had finally let herself go and it was the most amazing thing he had ever witnessed.

* * *

The otter seemed to disappear once he drew near to a small house at the edge of the village that was partially obscured from the road by trees and tall hedges. He flew lower as he peered through his omnioculars and attempted to see into the windows as he circled carefully, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone. At last, through a rear window, he could see two people on a table doing things that made him suddenly feel like a voyeur. He paused to study their faces and several minutes later was rewarded when the man moved away with a view of the dazed face of one Hermione Granger. He quickly flew to a neighboring copse of trees to land in and contacted the others via his badge. Within minutes, the others arrived, one after the other.

"She's here," he whispered.

"Where?" asked Harry.

"A house close to here."

"Well, let's go then!" said Ron.

Draco put a hand up. "Hold on. We need a plan. If we're not careful, Dolohov will run, possibly killing us on the way out."

"The house has one door, several windows, upstairs and down," Keith reported. "They were..er..at the table downstairs. We probably should hurry."

Draco looked at him in alarm. Harry promptly took charge of the group.

"Each of us needs to be stationed at a point of entry. Draco, I need you to go to the door. He'll possibly expect you, but hopefully not the rest of us. Ron and Lawrence, take the front windows, Gerald and I will take the back. Keith, you wait by the door after Draco is inside. Got it everyone?"

They each nod at Harry.

"Remember, Robards wants him brought in alive."

"But disarming him won't be enough. He can do wandless magic," Draco added.

"Look, I don't care if the man is knocked out, tied up, or petrified, so long as he is technically alive," barked Harry. "Let's get him."

* * *

Hermione's dress was bunched up to her waist as Antonin kissed his way up her thighs, spreading them wider and hooking her knees over his shoulders. He could see that she was already glistening.

"You're so wet, Hermione. Just for me."

The tip of his tongue found her little nub at last and the way she moaned went straight to his already hard shaft. He regretted that his trousers were still on, but he knew the second they were off, he'd be claiming her for life. His tongue began lapping at her arousal, slow strokes that caught her clit at the end each time. He was determined to make her cum at least once before taking her.

"Oh fuck," she whimpered. "I fucking love your mouth."

He slipped a finger into her tight channel and she cried out.

"Wait until that's my cock stretching y-."

A knock sounded at the door.

"Who the fuck could that be?" he growled.

The person knocked again, harder. Antonin stood and stalked toward the door, anger bubbling to the surface. Wand in hand, he flung open the door and cursed the... empty air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move and thought to anticipate it.

"Stupefy!" Draco suddenly cried out from the other direction and Antonin collapsed backward into his house. "Got him!" he shouted to the others.

Hermione bolted upright in a panic, pupils still blown and only just thinking to push her dress down as she heard shouting.

"Hermione!" familiar voices called as their faces came into view.

Her eyes welled up and she began to cry.

* * *

Hermione was shattered by the time Ron and Gerald took Dolohov away to be held in a cell at the Ministry for the time being while paperwork got sorted. She had tried to explain what happened to her, but she was clearly embarrassed and still a mess from the heady mixture of the potion and binding magic.

"We'll get a statement on later, 'Mione," Harry reassured her. "I think you need to get some rest."

She nodded and went to collect her things from upstairs. Draco was looking over bookshelves, passing over them with his wand, when a particular book caught his eye. Hidden in plain sight, he remarked. He plucked it from the shelf and turned to face a very wrung out Hermione.

"Draco, take me home," she cried in exhaustion.

The others looked at Draco questioningly, but Draco merely shrugged. At last, Harry gave him a nod, which was good enough. Draco took her bags, wrapped an arm around her, walked out the door, and, grabbing his broom, apparated to her flat.

Crookshanks immediately rushed to her, mewling and swiping at her with his fluffy tail. Draco went to refill the furry beast's food and water dishes, knowing that he was likely hungry.

"Do you need anything, Hermione?" he asked gently.

She was still seated on the floor, her furry companion now purring in her lap.

"Sadly I don't have your father's firewhisky."

"You probably need to eat and then get some rest."

"Shower first. Then I'm going to burn this dress."

"Fair enough."

She trudged to her room to find some clothes and then took a shower, trying to scrub away the memories of the day. When she emerged, Draco was waiting on her couch. He stood as she entered the room.

"Give me the dress."

She handed it over and he chucked it into the fireplace. A quick wave of his wand and it burst into flame. They stood there watching it in silence for a moment as the magical fire consumed the garment until there was nothing left.

"You need to eat," he said finally.

"There's a chip shop around the corner. You could get takeaway for us?"

"I don't want to leave you hear by yourself."

"I'm fine, Draco. You'll be back in 10 minutes at most."

"Crookshanks? You're in charge."

The half-kneazle ignored Draco as usual and wandered to the kitchen to see if he had filled his bowls.

"You should have a guard dog instead."

"Just go already, Draco. I'm ok now. I promise."

Draco made a face and was about to go when he realised something important.

"Ummm.. what do I do about Muggle money?"

Hermione dug into her bag and pulled out a small card wallet.

"Here, take this card. You don't need to sign or anything. Just tap it on the machine, it's easy."

He took the card and examined it.

"Won't they know that I'm not Hermione J. Granger?"

"Yes, but they won't care. If you don't go now, though, I'm going to hex you."

Draco took his cue and hurried away.

He returned ten minutes later with a paper bag with fish and chips for them both. As they ate, he recounted how he didn't understand how to work the card and how he got some funny looks because of it. She laughed and began making a list of all the Muggle things he really ought to learn to do. He rolled his eyes and smiled.

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"I never thanked you. For coming to look for me."

"It's nothing. I was doing my job."

"No one else knew I was even missing. They wouldn't have noticed until the weekend."

"Well I noticed, so I did something."

"You know, you could just be polite and say 'you're welcome'."

"Fine, you're welcome."

"May I ask one more thing of you?"

"Anything." Was that too forward of him? But he wanted to be truthful.

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

He blinked. He wasn't expected such a simple question. Of course he would stay, but he opted to give a very Draco Malfoy reply. It was better than gushing like a Hufflepuff and potentially ruin everything.

"You know, I was really missing your couch these last few nights."

She laughed.

"Cheeky. I meant in my room. I... I don't want to be alone."

Draco suddenly looked unsure of himself.

"But you'll be-"

"Please, Draco."

"Yeah... ok."

Draco knew that he'd do whatever she wanted. Anything to keep her feeling safe.

* * *

Draco was awakened the next morning by something tickling his nose. He prised open an eye to see Hermione curled into his side, her wild hair in his face. He inched himself away and got out of bed, making a stop in the bathroom before going to make some coffee.

Hermione woke up several minutes later, embarrassed to find that she was on what was his side of the bed and that he was gone. She felt relief when she heard the noise of the kettle coming from the kitchen. It at least meant that he hadn't left.

As it turned out, Hermione learned that Draco had the day off, so they took their time over breakfast before they both went to the Manor to speak with Lucius. Hermione had already showered the night before, so she quickly got dressed while Draco waited on the couch.

"Ready?" he queried when she appeared.

"Yeah, let's get this over with, shall we?"

When they arrived at the Manor, they found Lucius in the garden drinking tea.

"Good morning, Father."

"Good morning, Draco. Hermione." He nodded to them both. "Would you care for tea?"

As they drank, Draco recounted the highlights of their search for Hermione while she added the occasional detail of what happened on her end. Lucius watched the pair of them with interest, obviously more comfortable with one another than before. When they finished, he fixed his attention on Hermione.

"I assume that you've come this morning to hear what I've learned about your condition."

She nodded. "Dolohov was arrested, but I'm not sure that solved anything."

"Well, it means that he can't finish the binding. At least not until he's free again."

She shuddered at the thought.

"I doubt you have anything to worry about."

"Not if I can help it," Draco muttered.

"Did he happen to tell you anything about it?"

"He told me that it's family magic. That it was an accident, but a happy one."

"Yes, all old wizarding families have their own brand of magic, special only to their bloodline. Usually this is accomplished with blood magic and binding rituals. I'd never heard of... what you'd described.. but then realised that it's effects are similar to an incomplete binding ritual. Marital binding was originally done to prevent infidelity, though most families today forego binding rituals in favour of a magical contract which isn't the same as fusing the couple's magic together. Do you see the difference?"

Hermione could only nod. "Go on, please."

"But let's say the binding ritual was somehow interrupted and never completed. Then you are left with two people whose magic calls out to one another, wanting the two halves to magically become a whole. Physical contact seems to exacerbate its effects, pulling the two people together. Does any of this sound familiar?"

"Yes," she answered through gritted teeth. "How does one break it?"

"Well, that's the real question, isn't it? But the only solution I've found is for them to complete it."

"What if one person dies before that happens?" Draco asked.

"Death breaks all bindings, so even someone bound would be freed upon the death of the other party."

"Is there no other solution?" Hermione asked, strangely morose.

"Bind oneself to someone else before the first is finalised."

Hermione buried her face in her hands. She didn't know what she had expected Lucius to say, but she wasn't quite prepared for his response. She certainly didn't want to be bound to Dolohov, but the magic left her feeling conflicted. She was relieved that he had been arrested, but to wish death on someone was something else entirely.

Before they left, Draco passed Lucius the book he had taken from Dolohov.

"I think this will have the answers."

Lucius gave him a curious look.

"And you think I should be the one to find them?"

"You've known him longer than me. And I think you owe her one."

He took the book from his son and, once they were gone, went to find a comfortable place to do some reading.

* * *

Draco accompanied her back to her flat, bringing with him the lunch the elves had already prepared for them, held under warming charms. He placed them in the kitchen and found Hermione leaning back on the couch, shirt rolled up, and staring at her scars.

Draco cleared his throat and she jumped, immediately smoothing her top back down.

"Sorry," he sighed. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"What am I going to do?" she said softly, a tinge of sadness tainting the question.

"There's nothing you need to do. He's locked up at the Ministry now. He can't hurt you."

"It's not about getting hurt."

"Then what's wrong?" He sat at the other end of the couch, turned to face her. "Please. Talk to me, Hermione."

"What your father said this morning.."

"About?"

"One of us will have to die or I'll need to bind myself to someone else. Isn't there another way?"

"Can't bear the thought of being with the same wizard the rest of your life?"

"It's not that. I just don't think I'm ready."

"You've got time."

"Maybe."

"What do you mean?"

"Will... will the magic interfere? I mean.. what if I _can't_ be with anyone else?"

"Of course you can. You're not bound to him."

"Does my magic know that? Does everyone else's know that?"

"It's not like you have a repelling charm cast on you, you know."

"I'm not so sure.. Ron and I broke up and nothing else has ever worked out either."

"Have you been on dates with many wizards?"

"Well, no..."

"Perhaps you haven't found the right one yet." Draco suddenly grew nervous and changed the subject. "Think you're ready for some lunch now? Before we have to go see Robards?"

"Yeah ok."

Lunch was, from Hermione's perspective, rather enlightening. The conversation flowed naturally and Draco managed to convince her to tell her side of the past few days. It was painful, but useful to helping her see things in a new light and found herself being once again grateful for this strange new friendship. They were cleaning up in the kitchen when Hermione spoke up.

"Draco, if you hadn't noticed that I was missing..."

"But I did, so we don't even need think about it."

"I just wanted to say thank you. I don't know if I can ever repay you."

"It was Sullivan who found the house."

Hermione turned and held Draco by the arms so that they were facing one another.

"Yes, but you put things into motion. You looked for me when no one else knew I was gone. So thank you."

She raised up onto her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Draco grinned in spite of his shock and pulled her into a hug, kissing the crown of her head.

"I'm glad you're safe now."

He paused and lowered his arms, not missing the faint blush that now colored her cheeks.

"Let's go see Robards before he sends someone after us, yeah?"

Hermione took a steadying breath. "Alright, lead the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only 2 chapters left to go!!


	11. Already His

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not over yet! In spite of recent events, Hermione still attends the fundraiser for the Malfoys. Dolohov plots, Lucius schemes, and Draco has to come to terms with some unpleasant facts. The question is what is going to do about it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.

Gawain Robards was in his office having what looked like to be an intense conversation with Harry when the secretary showed them in.

"'Mione," smiled Harry for a brief moment. "Malfoy."

"Good afternoon, sir. Hey, Harry."

"Good afternoon, sir. Sorry if we're a few minutes late. Hullo, Potter."

Robards scrutinised the pair of them for a moment, but then relaxed. "Alright, have a seat. You're just in time. I was talking to Potter about another case that's come up." Turning to Harry, "You don't need to stay. We'll do a separate debrief later after I get Miss Granger's statement."

Harry gave them all a nod and headed out, closing the door firmly behind him.

"Miss Granger, I believe an explanation is in order as to why you didn't alert us the moment that Dolohov made contact with you."

"I was regrettably wrong, but to be honest I didn't understand what was going on between he and I and I wanted to do a little research before.. before involving the DMLE."

"What were you planning on doing? Hiding him away?"

Hermione turned a shade of crimson. "I... well, no, sir. It's just that.."

"They're partially magically bonded," Draco supplied.

"I see."

"Only I didn't know that's what it was. He didn't at first either. But with the help of the Malfoys we figured it out - unfortunately at the same time as Dolohov. That's when he decided to kidnap me. He wanted to finish the bonding."

"And did you?"

"Thankfully the Aurors arrived before he..er..we could."

"Good. Because that would change his sentence, you see. If he were bound to you, we would likely be obligated to let him walk free. I hope you see the gravity of your situation now."

"I do now, sir. And I'm so very sorry for the trouble I've caused."

"Well, you can thank Mr. Malfoy here for alerting us to your disappearance."

"I have, but probably not enough." She reached over and patted Draco's arm. The tips of his ears went a little pink, which did not escape the Head Auror's notice.

"Well, the both of you have the rest of the week off, so I'd better not see you before Monday morning. Miss Granger, you should stop by your department and at least make your presence known. Apparently news of your little adventure has been making the rounds. The Head of the DMLE would also like to see you for a minute before you leave. Malfoy, I need you to remain just a minute more. Good day, Miss Granger."

Hermione, rose from her seat, dismissed. Draco reached out and touched her arm.

"I'll come by your office when I'm done here, yeah?"

"Sure thing."

She closed the door and Robards gave Draco a serious look.

"You care about Miss Granger."

"Sir, I swore years ago that I would protect her if ever she needed it. You know we didn't have an easy past between us and then she was tortured in my house by my psychotic aunt. I'll carry those memories with me the rest of my life."

"Well, she's fortunate to have you."

"I should have arrested him sooner. The three of us were in her flat just a week ago and I could have done."

"So why didn't you?"

"Hermione Granger is a tough witch to cross."

"So you were more afraid of her than the consequences of letting someone like Dolohov roam the country?"

Draco's face fell, his shoulders slumped.

"I know. It's my fault."

"It's equally Miss Granger's fault. She should have had him arrested the moment she saw him."

"I told her that, but-"

"I think the magic probably was clouding her decisions."

"Very much so."

"It's unfortunate that she's partially bound to him. There will be those on the Wizengamot that might push for his release because of it. Unfortunately, being bound to the last of a house in the Sacred Twenty-eight is going to bring some old sentiments to the surface. Others will go so far as to be glad to see him executed because of his crimes. It's hard to know which way it will turn in the end."

"I was aware from the moment my father explained it that this would complicate matters. Knowing the man, I personally would rather see him executed. She was traumatised from spending a day with him. Imagine her begin trapped with him for the rest of her life."

"Would you be willing to testify? Unfortunately you know him better than most."

Draco's mouth was set in a grimace. "That I do. Of course I'll testify."

"Well, I expect a full report about this on my desk by Tuesday. Minister Shacklebolt was beside himself as was the the head of DMLE and her own boss. I think they're willing to be a bit lenient because it is Miss Granger and the fact that you lot brought in a wanted criminal, but we'll have a meeting next week to discuss. In the meantime, enjoy your days off. I know you have that fundraiser this weekend. I've requested several Aurors to attend as guests just in case anything else happens. With Dolohov suddenly in prison, we don't know how this will effect the few others that we still haven't managed to track down. We can't be too careful."

"Very well, sir. And thank you."

Draco shook Robards's hand before heading down the hall. He paused by his own office and checked through the memos that arrived during his absence before looking for Hermione.

She was in her office, filing some papers that were piling up on her desk when Draco knocked.

"Hey, you," she smiled. "I'll be done in just a tick."

"Not a problem."

"So what did Robards have to say?"

"He just asked if I would testify when it goes to trial. Of course I said yes." He paused. "Are you ready for the fundraiser tomorrow? I noticed that you came back with shoes, but do you need anything else?"

"Oh Merlin, I forgot about buying a dress!"

"Let's go together this afternoon. We can stop by Fortescue's on the way, my treat."

* * *

The two went as planned to the ice cream shop where they each got a dish of their favourite flavours, Hermione the butterscotch and salted caramel, Draco the chocolate fudge and raspberry ripple. They sat in a back corner, away from the windows where they could watch the door and windows. Hermione hated that they had to be like this, but if she were honest with herself she was still rather shook up.

Draco wanted her to go to a new shop, Conjured Couture, that had opened only a few months ago, but Hermione was afraid the dresses there would cost more than her she had in her whole vault. Eventually she capitulated with the agreement that if she didn't like it, she could go to the less expensive shops as usual.

"You'll love it, I promise," Draco assured her.

As usual, he was right. Before she even walked in, the clothing in the window was enough to intrigue her.

"Yeah, this will be fine."

Draco smirked.

He waited patiently while she looked through various racks of robes and gowns. It was as expensive as she feared and some of the dresses were well within her budget. After about the third rack, she called him over for his opinion.

"Is this too plain?" She was holding up a forest green gown with sheer cap sleeves and empire waistline. The waistline was laced with a golden ribbon threaded through and from it the flowing skirt was doubled with sheer golden fabric that opened in the front.

"Why don't you try it on?" he suggested.

With a shrug, she headed to the changing cabinet. She quickly pulled the dress on and looked in the mirror, unconvinced. It was an asymmetrical cut that ended just past her knees in the front and dipped slightly longer in the back.

"Well?" called Draco.

"I'm not sure. It's a little.. I don't know. Not what I would usually buy."

"Let me see then."

Hermione shyly opened the door and walked out. Draco's eyes widened and she interpreted it as a bad sign.

"Ok, I knew it wasn't the best, but-"

Draco stepped toward her and grabbed her hands. She stopped talking and blinked.

"What's wrong with it?" he inquired. "It's perfect."

"I- what?"

Draco chuckled as he stepped back to look her over again, not letting go of her hands. "It's formal but not ostentatious. Serious but sweet." ' _Just like you_ ,' he nearly added, but shook the thought from his head. "Get this one. What color are your shoes?"

"Beige," she sighed.

"Go get dressed and meet me by the shoes." He reluctantly let go of her hands and walked off the find what he had in mind.

By the time Hermione joined him, dress still in hand, he was looking over a pair of golden mid heels, adorned with several dainty straps. He insisted that she try them on and then hold the dress up to see what he thought.

"Perfect. Those are the shoes you're wearing with that dress. Hand them here to me," he held the box open for her to place them back inside.

"I don't know, they're a little expensive and I just bought a pair."

"That was before you found the dress. And don't worry about the cost, I'm paying for them." He replaced the lid and held out an expectant hand. "The dress, too."

"No, it's really alright."

"You've been coerced into going to this thing and it's for my family, so you'd better believe that we're paying for it. Be glad you were at least able to choose your own dress, my mother-" He paused and sighed. "Consider it a gift for all the trouble my father has caused."

She slowly handed him the dress.

"Are you sure, Draco?"

"Quite. He's been a right git, you should have insisted that he pays anyway, you know."

"I'd rather him not think that I can be bought."

"I'm not offering because I think you can be bought. I'm offering because it's the gentlemanly thing to do." _'Because I want to_ ,' is what he meant. He was certain that he was treading dangerous waters just then and forced himself to smile instead of saying anything he would regret.

"I don't know.."

"Just give me the bloody thing, you stubborn woman," he grinned and from her smile back he knew that he won.

"Fine, but just this once." She handed him the dress and sat down to slip her other shoes back on.

"Doubtful," he called over his shoulder as he made his way to the register.

 _'Doubtful?_ ' she wondered as she pulled her second shoe, but then shook her head. ' _He's just taking the mickey like usual, Hermione. Stop reading into everything. '_

Boxes in hand, Draco insisted that she apparate straight to her flat the moment they left the shop.

"You coming?"

"Yeah ok," he nodded. "I'll be there. I have one other stop, shouldn't be more than 10 minutes."

He arrived outside her flat nearly 15 minutes later and knocked at the door.

"You didn't have to wait out here," she smiled.

He shrugged awkwardly and followed her in.

"So what did you need to do?"

"Oh, just had to pick up something for tomorrow night. Would you like to come have dinner at the Manor tonight?"

Hermione hesitated.

"I...er..."

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Wait. Stop. That was a stupid question."

She gently laid a hand on his arm. "No, it's ok. It's fine, I can do that."

"Are you sure? We can just eat here."

"No.. no, let's go."

* * *

Antonin Dolohov was pacing his cell like a caged tiger.

_Tomorrow was Saturday, right?_

He'd remembered hearing her say that there was an event at Malfoy Manor that evening and that she was obligated to be there. Perhaps it will be a good time to pay Lucius a call _and_ get his girl back. He only had to wait until dinner tomorrow. He had it all figured out.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy seemed to be on his best behaviour during the meal. Hermione thought perhaps it was someone else polyjuiced to look like him. But sure enough, as they were having a drink in the sitting room later, he proved that it was indeed himself.

"Still saving that dance for me tomorrow?"

"What?!" Draco looked from Hermione to his father.

Hermione merely rolled her eyes. She supposed his decency couldn't have lasted forever.

"We'll see." Her voice was clipped and Lucius looked smug.

"Father, leave her alone. The fact that she even came here for dinner shows that she is a bigger person than you. So stop."

"Merely hoping to take her mind off the rest of the week."

"Well, you're wrong," Draco growled. "Hermione, I think we should go."

"You don't need to do anything for tomorrow?"

"Nothing that I can do tonight."

"Alright."

"Good evening, father."

They rose from their chairs and headed to the doorway.

"And Lucius," Hermione called over her shoulder. "Thanks for the new dress."

She and Draco walked away laughing. Lucius laughed, too, once they were gone. Yes, there was infinitely more to Hermione Granger than he had suspected when they met all those years ago at Flourish and Blott's. Draco was a lucky sod, even if he didn't know it yet.

Draco stayed with Hermione again that night. She didn't even have to ask. As they were taking turns getting ready for bed, he considered his own feelings about Hermione. How could he possibly tell her after the week she's had? He wasn't sure that she felt the same and it made him hesitate. He slipped beneath her covers and waited for her to do the same, just like the night before. Only this time he allowed her into his arms before she fell asleep.

* * *

Draco brought Hermione to the Manor early on Saturday since he needed to be on hand. She used the occasion to return the rest of the books she had borrowed and, at Draco's insistence, browse for anything else of interest. She was startled out of her thoughts when she noticed Lucius Malfoy leaning against the doorframe, staring at her.

"How long as you been standing there?" she scowled.

"At least 10 minutes," the man smirked. "Perhaps you should just move into the library if you're going to just going to keep borrowing all of my books."

Hermione blushed. "Draco told me that I could borrow a few others."

Lucius eyed the stack of books next to her on the floor. "A few, hmm?"

"Well, he didn't specify how many."

He laughed. "He knows you better than you may realise."

"Well, I suppose I do have a bit of a reputation."

"I wasn't speaking of your reputation as a swot. Draco is-"

"I'm what?" Draco asked, walking up behind Lucius.

"Nothing, son. I was just seeing how many books Hermione considers to be a few."

"Leave her alone. It's not like you're going to read any of those in the next week."

Lucius pursed his lips to hide a smile. "I suppose it's fine."

Draco guided his father out the door.

"Did you find out anything else?" he asked in a low voice.

"I might have."

"Well?"

"You should have killed him when you had the chance."

"She would have never forgiven me."

"Then you're going to have to give her up, Draco. She's already his."

"But they didn't-"

"Apparently that's just one piece of the puzzle. Ever since he marked her, she was as good as his. Wasn't she with that Weasley boy in school?"

"Don't remind me."

"It didn't last, did it?"

"Well, no, she said that it just didn't work out."

"And anyone else?"

"Well, no, but.."

"It's woven into her magic, Draco. She might convince herself in her head of one thing, but her magic is going to keep reaching out to him. Don't you think it's curious how he found her in a crowded city? And then showed up at her flat? Think about it. He didn't find her before because _he_ wasn't ready to. But he could have found her at any moment. Anywhere."

"He's going to Azkaban, so we don't have to worry."

"She'll never even be able to completely emotionally bond with anyone else."

"Fuck!"

"Language, Draco. The only thing is to get Potter or Robards to push for the Kiss and you'd better hope to Merlin that it works."

* * *

The day passed quickly as Hermione helped (after much insisting on her part) with some final preparations for the evening. Before she knew it, she was shuttled off to a room to get ready. She was putting in her earrings when there was a knock on the door. She answered to find Draco, a small box in his hand and mouth agape as he stared at her.

"Did you come to stare or did you need something?" she inquired with a grin.

He closed his mouth into a playful smirk.

"I do have a little something, but, out of curiosity, what would you say if I'd only come to stare?"

"I'd tell you to pay up - I don't do shows for free."

His cheeks took on a faint pink as he thought about her doing any sort of "show".

"Er, well, consider this as payment?"

He held the box out to her. She took it tentatively, eyes flicking between his pewter stare and the box.

"Open it, Hermione. It's nothing cursed."

She laughed at his attempt at self-deprecation and untied the ribbon around the small square box. Her laugh changed to a gasp when she lifted the lid.

"Draco, I-"

"I thought it would look nice with your dress," he all but blurted out.

She lifted out the golden butterfly hair clip, marveling at the intricate filigree work.

"Would you.. would you help me with it?"

With a nod, he took it from her, his fingers brushing along her own. _Stay calm, Malfoy_ , he thought to himself. He chewed his lip as he gently squeezed the clip open and nestled it into a lock of her hair.

"One final thing," he added as he pulled out his wand. He tapped the butterfly and its wings began to slowly flutter. "Go look in the mirror."

She nodded and walked back into the room to look. "It's beautiful, Draco," she squealed. He had followed her in, watching her face in the mirror. She turned, threw her arms around his neck, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

He was debating if he should hug her back, but she was instantly gone, flitting about like the butterfly she now wore. She was still mumbling through the rest her speech as she added some lip gloss and slipped into her new heels. He watched her with interest, unafraid to be caught staring this time.

"Shall we greet the guests?" she chirped as she approached him again and he offered her his arm. She placed her hand atop like a lady of the upper crust and let him lead the way.

* * *

It was nearing dinner time and Antonin Dolohov was ready when the guard brought his meal. Just as the man opened the door at the end of the hall, he pretended to have a fit, sputtering and moaning like he was in the throes of something terrible. The guard was young wizard who rushed over, opening the door to take a better look before he remembered that it wasn't their usual petty criminal inside.

Dolohov was on him in a flash, stealing his wand and leaving him in a full body bind. He'd considered killing him as well, but he didn't want to waste the effort. The guard would be punished enough when they found him. He crept out of the building, but not before searching his own wand before leaving. He couldn't risk everything to a stranger's wand. Not tonight. Out of spite, he chucked the guard's wand in the atrium's fountain before exiting the building

* * *

Hermione normally wasn't too keen on these sorts of events, but she found it to be reassuring to be next to Draco who steered her expertly aware from unwanted conversations and toward those who didn't seek favours from her. Her eyes occasionally sought out the other Aurors who had scattered themselves amongst the throng as she moved easily from one circle of to another. She was in the middle of an discussion about the benefits of some recent policy changes that affected all branches of the Ministry when the familiar voice of Lucius Malfoy directed everyone's attention to the small dais at one end of the ballroom. She knew that was her cue and made her way onto the platform.

"Thank you for your attendance this evening. I ask for your kind attention while Miss Hermione Granger takes the floor."

She cast a quick Sonorus and stepped forward.

"Thank you, Lord Malfoy. You are all aware that a vital piece of legislation is soon to be proposed to the Wizengamot regarding several prison reforms. These changes are necessary not only because Azkaban is no longer in the hands of Dementors, but also because we would like to ensure that our judicial system is fair and that punishments given will be measured against the crime committed. We also realise that now, on the other side of the war, more changes need to be made for the benefit of our citizens. I simply ask that the reforms be carefully considered by each of you before it goes to vote and that you encourage those around you do the same. Together we can continue rebuilding a society that future generations will be proud to inherit. Thank you."

Hermione rejoined the crowd to thunderous applause as she silently cast Finite. A tug at her elbow caused her to turn her head to see both Malfoy men beside her. Draco looked extremely pleased and even Lucius had a faint smile on his lips.

"Maybe you need to set your sights a little higher, Hermione. Fancy becoming Chief Warlock? Or perhaps Minister?" Draco gave her a wink.

"Maybe in a few years, eh?" she smirked.

"Yes, very nice, Miss Gr- Hermione. You'd have my vote."

The music began again and Lucius leaned in. "I think it's time now for our little dance, hmm?"

Draco's lip curled as he overheard, but he gave her a half-shrug as if to say he was staying out of this one.

"Best get it over with then," she replied with a nod.

"Come now, I promise it won't be the worst dance of your young life."

Lucius led her away to where others were already dancing. Draco wandered in the same direction, keeping one eye on them and the other on the surrounding crowd. Hermione had already assumed that Lucius was a confident dancer and so she let him lead the way, one hand clasping her own and the other gently on her side.

"Draco is right, you look beautiful tonight."

Hermione felt herself blush.

"Do the two of you enjoying discussing me?"

"Oh, we have for years. Though I must admit that the, shall we say, flavour of the discussion has shifted as of late."

"I'm sure, with all that's just happened.."

"That's not what I meant, but take it as you will." He held her a bit closer so as to lean down and whisper in her ear. "I believe we may be making a bit of a stir from dancing so close, though."

"Wretched Slytherin, what are you up to now?" she hissed.

"All in due time, Hermione." His hand slipped lower onto her hip and she squeaked.

"Move your hand any lower and you'll lose it. I'd rather not make a scene, though, if it's anything to you."

He chuckled softly. "Such manners you have. I should really- oh!"

His sudden exclamation made Hermione look behind her and saw Draco heading straight toward them.

"Allow me to save you from this lecher, fair lady." He held out his hand to her. Hermione shot Lucius a thoughtful glance as she took Draco's hand. Lucius winked and walked away, joining in a conversation near the champagne table.

Draco proved to be every bit as good a dancer as his father.

"Was he bothering you?"

"I think he was up to something. I'm still figuring out what."

"Lucius is always scheming. It's how he passes the time," he deadpanned.

She laughed and Draco felt his lips turn up into a smile.

"You can be quiet funny, you know. Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. You seem to be rather good as rescuing me."

His cheeks grew warm.

"Do you like dancing?" _Merlin, what a stupid question_ , he chided himself.

"It rather depends on who I'm dancing with. You?"

"Same."

"Well, if you'd rather not, we could-"

"No... No, I like dancing with you. That is, if-"

"Let's keep dancing then, hmm?" She closed her eyes and found herself resting her cheek against his chest.

"Draco?" she asked several minutes later.

"Yeah?"

"Please don't take this wrong, but I'm glad you're not like your father."

"In what way?"

"You care about people in a way that he doesn't."

"I didn't spend 40 years of my life being poisoned by ridiculous tripe. Even my mother isn't all that she pretended to be."

"I never hear you speak of her."

"Well, it's a bit of a sore subject. But she's in Italy, happily remarried to a wizard that is nothing like my father. I go to see her from time to time. It's still a bit awkward, but he seems alright."

* * *

Lucius felt the wards of his house shift as someone uninvited slipped in. And he knew just who it was, having set the alarm himself. He excused himself from the conversation and called for Snicker his elf.

"Someone just came into the house. Which door did they use?"

"From the back terrace. Shall I detain them for you, Master Lucius?"

"No, I'll take care of this one myself."

He stalked down a darkened hallway to a part of the house not in use that evening. The back garden terrace was joined to the house by way of a glass enclosure which had to be equipped with a permanent cooling charm in the summer. This connected to what was once an old ballroom room that Narcissa had remodeled for her own gatherings before the recent war, but he generally left it locked and unused. It was somehow still her space even though she had left over two years ago. With a flick of his wand, the candles sprung to life as he entered the cavernous room and he quickly registered the face of a man he had long since loathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, giving kudos, and commenting! Some have been disappointed in the turn that the story has taken and in some ways I have been as well. Antonin hasn't gone about things in the best of ways and I had to make a decision about how that would be perceived. I'm enjoying that there are readers who are rooting for different characters and I know that there's no way that everyone will love how this ends. I hope that the ending, when we get there, will at least seem logical even if it's not what you wanted. Also, I'm continually surprised at the amount of people reading this!


	12. Confrontations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A showdown between old enemies and a confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leaving kudos and for commenting!

Antonin Dolohov's face was twisted in a snarl.

"Lucius, so glad you're able to have your little parties again. How you manage it without Cissa is truly a wonder."

"Antonin," he sneered back. "So glad that you could join us. I'm afraid your name must have slipped my mind when I made the guest list."

"I'm sure darling Draco told you where I've been."

"Torturing a mudblood into marrying you? I never knew you would sink so low."

"You wouldn't call her that if you'd had a taste."

"Oh she gave me one, but unfortunately she prefers a newer vintage."

The two men had been moving in a circle, giving each other a wide berth. The tension in the room had been rapidly mounting as each tried to force the other into making the first move. After that final remark, Dolohov was livid.

"How dare you so much as look at my witch!"

"She even let me peruse her scars," he smirked.

"Crucio!" Dolohov shouted. Lucius quickly blocked it with a shield.

"Starting out with the Unforgivables, hmm? And here I'd thought you'd gone soft."

"Confringo!" Dolohov began firing off curses, one after another. "Expulso! Stupefy!"

Lucius continued to shield himself as he moved about the room, objects exploding around him as the curses hit other targets.

"Why don't you fight back, Lucius? Who's the one who has grown soft?"

 _Nearly there_ , thought Lucius.

"Crucio!" the dark haired wizard cried again, missing Lucius by mere centimeters. "Cruci-!" he began again, but found his foot trapped, rooted to the floor.

"Expelliarmus!" Lucius hissed, catching Antonin in his moment of panic. "You insufferable bastard," he continued, advancing on the man, wand pointed. "You should have never shown your face here again."

Enraged, Antonin grabbed a nearby small table and hurled it at Lucius, but not before the man blasted it with his wand. He cursed and wandlessly tried to attack, but a shield absorbed it.

"This is for Draco."

The explosions and shouting drew the Aurors on duty, but not before the flash of green light which was the last thing Antonin Dolohov saw.

* * *

The Aurors burst into the room, wands drawn. The room was in shambles. Broken bits of furniture, pottery and glass littered the floor. They rushed at Lucius who turned to them, his wand down.

Two of them pointed their words at Lucius, the other focused on Dolohov.

"Just a friendly duel, gentlemen. And lady." He nodded to the female Auror whose wand was trained on him.

"He's dead," one of them pronounced.

"Where's his wand?" said another.

"I'm afraid we'll need your wand, Lord Malfoy, as there seem to be no other witnesses," the witch commented.

He shrugged and handed it over without complaint. He had already known what would happen.

"I disarmed him, so the wand should be somewhere nearby." He nudged through a nearby pile of rubble with the toe of his dragonhide boot. "Right... here." He pointed and allowed one of the others to pick it up.

"We're going to have to take you in for questioning. I'm sure you've not forgotten the process."

His eyes hardened, but nodded with a straight face. "Someone ought to let Draco know."

At that moment, the aforementioned blonde strode into the room. His eyes quickly went to his father who was now being held by an Auror on each side.

"What the-?"

"It's alright, Draco. Don't worry about me."

Hermione, who had been trailing Draco when he left, hesitantly walked in, stopping just behind him.

"Father's been arrested," he said softly, shocked.

Horrified and unsure of what happened, she tried to take in the scene. She saw another Auror magically covering something or, no, someone in a sheet. A second Auror was holding two extra wands. And then there was Lucius standing with two others, his face set in a grim mask, betraying nothing of his thoughts or feelings. She moved to him without thinking.

"Who?" The question felt heavy on her tongue and her heart overwhelmed by a strange sense of loss.

"You've nothing left to fear."

"Antonin," she breathed and rushed to where the other Auror had levitated the body.

"Please.. let me.. let me see." She was given an odd look, but the wizard lowered the body and stepped aside. She peeled back the sheet and looked once more at the face of her abductor, her tormenter, her...would-be husband? Draco, who hadn't heard what his father said, softly moved behind her, yearning to protect her once more from Merlin-knows-what. He bit back any comment that would have sprung from his lips when he saw who it was. Unbidden tears sprang to Hermione's eyes and she turned her face away into Draco's warm embrace, sobbing into his robes.

* * *

She couldn't remember later how she ended up in the unfamiliar bed where she awakened, but a familiar blond came into view has he approached the bed and gingerly perched on the edge near her.

"Oh Draco," she whispered.

"Shhh, it's ok. I'm here for you."

"Your father-"

"Is downstairs having a brandy with Potter and Weasley who've been anxiously waiting for you to wake up."

"I'm-? Where am I?"

"Sorry, this is my bedroom. I sort of panicked when you collapsed and had the elves bring you here since it's securely warded and I wanted you to remain unbothered while I sent all the guests home. Oh, I, er, I went and fed your cat. I didn't know when you'd be awake."

She tucked that last bit of information away for later. "How did Harry and Ron know?"

"Potter was called in because of the breakout, so he was there when they brought my father in. And since.. since it was considered self-defence, he was allowed to come home provided that he was escorted. He's currently under house arrest until the Wizengamot issues an official ruling." He paused and swallowed. "He must have told Weasley because he showed up just a few minutes later."

"What time is it?"

"About three in the morning."

"I should go see them so they can go home."

"Come on then, I'll go with you in case your legs stop working and I'm forced to carry you." He gave her a little half-smile and offered his elbow.

Harry and Ron leapt to their feet when Hermione entered the room.

"Hermione, you ok?"

"Alright then, 'Mione?" They talked over one another and she grinned.

"Yeah, ok."

Ron's gaze shifted to her arm which was still locked with Draco's, his eye narrowing. Harry's lips turned up at the corners, but said nothing. Their reactions weren't lost on Hermione.

"It's alright, Ron."

He blinked a few times and looked uncomfortable as she pressed herself into Draco's side.

Lucius was sitting in an armchair, hands clasped behind his head as he watched the exchange with a smirk. Hermione turned her face toward him.

"Why did you do that? You could have called the Aurors and they would have sent him to Azkaban."

His steely regard flicked momentarily to Draco before meeting her own once more.

"I didn't do it for you." Somehow he managed to sound bored and teasing at the same time. He knew she couldn't bear not knowing.

"Who then?"

"Why should I tell you?" He sat up and tilted his head slightly. "Do you presume that I owe you an explanation for why I would duel one of my own sort? Is that what you want to know?" He couldn't resist needling her just a bit more.

"Lucius, you know I don't think of you like that."

Harry and Ron's eyes widened at the use of his first name. They felt like they missed something vital in this exchange.

Lucius merely smirked again. "I believe you've called me both a 'git' and an 'insufferable arse' of late. Why should I spill my black little heart out to you, _Hermione_?"

"I don't know! Common decency?"

"Well you and I both know that decency isn't one of my finer qualities."

"Father!" Draco cut in. "Enough, it's the middle of the night and you need your beauty rest."

Hermione stifled a giggle.

"My own son, turned against me." His false dramatic gesture made her burst out laughing.

"You missed your calling, Lucius. You should have been an actor."

"How banal. My skills are better employed elsewhere."

"Well, if you're truly not going to tell me, I think I should get some rest." She moved to Harry and then Ron, pulling them into a tight hug.

"Thank you for coming to check on me. It's very sweet of you both."

"You're our best friend, 'Mione."

"Yeah, we're just glad you're alright, in spite of these goons," Ron murmured.

Draco merely rolled his eyes. He was too spent to engage in verbal sparring with the man.

"Want me to take you home?" Harry offered.

"No, it's ok. I think I may just stay here tonight."

"Oh.. er.. ok. If that's ok with the Malfoys."

A blush crept into her cheeks. "I.. I stayed in a guest room a few times the other week, so I just assumed.."

"It's fine, Hermione," Draco reassured. "I'm hardly going to kick you out in the middle of the night."

She nearly shot back at him, but he gave her a little wink. "How polite of you," she replied demurely.

Harry and Ron shook the Malfoys' hands and left via Floo.

"Draco, I'd like a moment with Hermione. If you don't mind."

Draco narrowed his eyes.

"I promise that I won't eat her. You can wait outside the door if it will ease your conscience."

"I'm going to the kitchen. Hermione, would you like anything before bed?"

"A glass of water would be lovely. And maybe a little something sweet?"

"Yeah ok. I'll be right back."

After he was well down the hallway, Lucius called her over to him as he rose to his feet.

"You want to know why I killed him?"

Hermione chewed her lip as he reached for her hand.

"Don't worry, this isn't a trick this time."

He took her hand between his own and peered down at her.

"Are you angry with me?" he inquired.

"I'm hardly sure. I'm not sure I even liked him, but it's... I felt it. Even before I knew, I felt it."

"I didn't do it for you."

He let his words sink in for a moment as she knit her brows, wondering what he would say next.

"I did it for Draco. Perhaps you should be the one to ask him why."

He raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles before stepping away. Hermione stood there in silence, perplexed.

"Ready?" Draco asked as he strode into the room.

"For?"

"I thought you were hungry."

"Oh. Right. Yes, of course." She gave Lucius an inquisitive look, but took Draco's arm as he led her back upstairs.

"Whinge already took a tray to my room," he proffered, filling the silence.

"Right."

"Did my father do something again?"

"Oh, um, no. No, I was just thinking through something he said."

Draco paused as they neared his room. "Should I have had the tray brought downstairs? I wasn't even thinking, I'm so sorry." _Bleeding Hufflepuff_ , he thought with a cringe. _What's wrong with me?_

"Your room is fine, Draco. I think.. I think I'd rather not stay alone tonight. I'm sorry, it's just been so much and then.."

"It's fine."

"And here I am asking one more thing from you as if it-"

"I said it's fine, Hermione. I can't pretend to know how you're feeling, but it hasn't been the best week for you, yeah?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Draco." She beamed up at him and he felt his heart thud slightly harder in his chest.

 _I've gone round the bend_ , he thought.

"Right, ok, so.." he led her into the room. "Tea, mini scones, jelly, some chocolate twists..."

She giggled as she saw the tray. It was nearly ridiculous the amount of snacks and sweets that were piled on next to two piping hot cups of tea. Hers was marked with a mini sugar quill.

"Eat what you like and leave the rest for another time."

 _Another time?_ she wondered.

"Draco, your father..." She picked up her cup and saucer and took a large sip.

His eyes were fixed on her as he did the same.

"He said he didn't do it for me. He did it for you. But that if I wanted to know why, I had to ask you myself."

He took another swallow of tea, keeping his face impassive.

"Maybe it's not something I'm ready to talk about."

Her eyes widened. "Did he.. do something to.. to.."

He waved her off before she could finish the question. "It's nothing like that."

"Then what could it be?"

"Here, have a biscuit."

She took it, but gave him a meaningful look. "Don't try to change the subject, Draco. I know you love to do that, and usually I let it slide, but I really need to know what's going on."

"It's nothing serious."

"Nothing serious? A man died, Draco! A man who.. who..."

"Who tried to force you to marry him, Hermione. A man who killed people that you love and threatened you and did Merlin knows what else. Please don't pity his fate."

"What about me, though? I _felt_ it, Draco! The moment he died, I.. it was like a hole was ripped in my own magic. And we weren't even fully bound!"

"Actually.. that's not technically true. I found one of his books and passed it to my father for him to read through."

"What do you mean not technically true? What did you not tell me?"

"We didn't want to worry you about it. I thought... I thought he'd go to trial and we could push for the Kiss, you know? And then it would make a clean break for you."

'Draco, stop dancing around the question."

"Apparently.. Merlin, I wish my father would learn to keep his big mouth shut." He sighed and sat down his cup before he spilled it. "Look, things weren't officially finalised, but because of the curse.. it wasn't quite as simple as we thought. You would have never been free of him. And he would always keep trying to get to you. You would have never been happy with.. with anyone else."

"What does any of that have to do with you?"

"I.. you really don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"You're so amazingly clever, but even my father figured it out. Even Potter knows."

"What? What do they know?" Her voice was rising higher, the teacup jangling in her hands.

He took the teacup from her and sat it on the tray, replacing it with one of his own hands.

"It's hardly the best time to tell you this."

"Please tell me before I get sick everywhere from nerves."

"Don't get angry. Promise me that you won't get angry."

Her thoughts were whirring a mile a minute. _What could Draco be going on about? He's never like this. He's snarky, silly, bossy, rude..calm, even. But never nervous and weird and unsure._

"I can't make promises when I don't know what I'm agreeing to!"

"Just promise me. I'm not asking for an Unbreakable Vow here."

"Ok, ok, I promise," she huffed. "I give you my word."

"What my father was trying to say is.. trust me, he already hated that man and was immediately attacked tonight with an Unforgiveable. He didn't even retaliate until he had an opening to disarm him before he used the killing curse. But, yeah, he knew all about your curse. And while I never came out and told him..

He paused and chewed his lip.

"Told him what, Draco?" she asked softly.

"I really... I care about you, Hermione. And until recently I never even let myself entertain the thought of being anything in your life besides an annoying pest, but.. but then you started treating me differently. Letting me see the real you. It was getting harder to ignore my own feelings and then that night when he came to your flat and.. shite, this is embarrassing.. I didn't even realise it at the time, but I actually got jealous. I couldn't even admit it to myself, but the more I was forced to think about my own feelings, the more I realised that I wanted to be more than just a friend or a protective brother like Potter and Weasley. I don't expect you to feel the same way about me and I'm sorry if I've somehow gone and fucked it all up but.."

"You didn't ask him to kill Antonin," she stated.

"No."

"Your father made his own decision. Don't take the blame for something that isn't your fault."

Draco merely nodded, thinking that perhaps he should have lied as wrong as that would have been at this point.

"Do you want my honesty?"

"It depends."

She snorted. "I do like you, Draco. And there might be something between us worth pursuing. But it's been one of the worst weeks I've had in so long: I've been kidnapped, drugged, taken advantage of and you've been terribly sweet through it all and that's meant something. I thought that if he went away I would be ok, but I think I'm just emotionally spent. And yet here I am, in your bedroom, eating your sweets and drinking your tea and invading your life and space like a bloody tyrant while you tell me that you care about me and I worry instead about this hole in my magic. Quite frankly, I don't know how you can stand me!"

"Hermione, I'd bring you back a snowball from the South Pole if it would make you happy."

"You don't see a problem with that?"

"I'd do anything for you, witch." The words just came tumbling out this time. "You're smart, beautiful, clever, amazing and have the craziest hair I've ever seen."

She tittered.

"It is and it's perfect. I think about you every day and I was nearly sick with worry when you disappeared. I blamed myself and swore that if we found you that I would spend the rest of my life protecting you. Whether you wanted me to or not."

Her smile grew a bit more. "How would you manage it if I was unwilling?"

"I'm a Slytherin after all."

"True, everyone knows the Malfoys like to be the ones holding all the strings."

"If it will keep you safe, I most certainly will."

"You can't shield me from everything, Draco."

The thought of what she'd went through that week was sobering for both of them.

"I'm sorry, that was careless of me to say."

"But it's true. I hate it, but it's true."

Hermione yawned into her hand and gave an embarrassed grin.

"I'm sorry, I'm getting tired again. You haven't slept at all, have you?"

"I had to be sure that you were alright."

"Merlin, you _do_ have it bad," she replied with a wink.

"Cheeky."

"That's your problem, not mine," she quipped. "I'm going to get ready and then I need to sleep."

She turned and went to the ensuite bathroom. She found that her things had all been moved here. _Tricky bugger_ , she thought. She washed her face, brushed her teeth and spied a set of pajamas from her flat. She gratefully pulled them on and sauntered back into the room to the side of the bed currently unoccupied.

"Put out the light when you're ready," she announced and snuggled under the silken covers.

"So you're not angry?"

"No, Draco. Nor am I offended. But I might be if I have to keep reassuring you. Just give me time to figure some things out, ok?"

She cracked open an eye to see Draco staring at her.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"Well, goodnight then."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

She didn't ask him to hold her that night so he curled up on his own side of the bed and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

**A few weeks later:**

Hermione had thrown herself back into her job and things seemed to return to normal. Draco came around at least once a day to say something flirty and utterly stupid, just as he used to do. She went back to her usual lunches with Harry and Ron and occasionally Draco would join them. One day after lunch Harry asked to meet in his office. After he closed the door, he sat on edge of his desk and sighed.

"So what's going on with you and Malfoy?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that the two of you were awfully close and now it's like.. I don't know, it's all back to the usual routine. Only when you're not around, he moons about like a lovesick fool."

"I hardly see how it's my fault."

"You can't tell me you don't know how he feels about you."

"Of course I do. He told me."

"He actually came out and told you?" Harry looked shocked and perhaps relieved. "I don't know what's going on between the two of you or how you feel about any of it, but don't lead the poor bloke on if you have no intention of even giving him a chance." He paused and scratched his head. "I can't believe that I'm even having this conversation."

"Neither can I," she replied, eyebrows raised. "Is he really that bad?"

"Maybe he hides it from you, but he's driving me positively batty."

"I don't know. I just assumed it was some passing thing and he'd be onto another witch by now."

"I think he's fancied you for longer than he wants to admit and now that he's told you about it... please, just make up your mind. If nothing else, for my sake and anyone else who has to work with him."

* * *

Hermione went home that evening and thought about Harry's words. Did she like him? Well, yes, but.. could she deal with anything serious with him? And what about his father? Isn't that just going to be weird? She decided to owl him that evening to invite him over for Friday dinner. If she were honest with herself she had begun to miss their time together, as intense as it was. The following morning she found a flower on her desk with a note attached.

_'Until tonight.'_

She had the uncomfortable feeling of buzzing in her stomach. Perhaps it was the coffee she'd just chugged.

When she got home from work, she made a quick meal before Draco arrived, another flower in hand.

After a pleasant dinner, they took a walk around her neighborhood before relaxing on the couch with a nice cuppa. They talked long into the evening and eventually she went so far as leaning her head on his shoulder.

"It is a relief to no longer have to sleep on my couch?"

"Not necessarily. Though my bed is nicer. You have to agree."

"I was too tired to notice."

He laughed and then grew quiet.

"I don't know if you heard, but my father was finally acquitted today."

"Oh, that's... that's good news!" She knew she didn't sound as enthusiastic as she'd liked.

"I thought you'd want to know."

"Sure."

"How've you... been feeling?"

"Different. I mean, I carried that curse for so many years without even knowing what it was doing to me. It had just become a part of my identity. Did you know.. of course you don't... the scar. It's nearly gone."

"And your magic?"

"It's not quite the same. It's like it changed. Not in a bad way. Just different."

"I see."

"Look, Draco, Harry cornered me this week and made me think through some things that I'd been avoiding. I had assumed that once all the excitement had went away that your feelings about me would change. I was afraid and so.. so I just shut it all out."

"They haven't changed at all," he said quietly.

"That's what Harry said. That I needed to make up my mind and give you a real answer."

"It's ok, don't-"

"Shh, I'm not finished. The truth is that I've missed our time together. The dinners, the conversation... I miss you."

"You see me nearly every day."

"You know what I mean, Draco."

"Maybe I just need to hear it."

"I think I'm ready to give us a chance."

"Do you mean it?"

"I mean it."

"May I... may I kiss you?"

Hermione blinked at she looked up at him. "Just like that?"

"I've been waiting a long time."

"Alright."

Before she could say another word, his lips were on hers, gentle, caring, teasing, caressing, threatening to overwhelm her but in a way that made her feel safe, sure. She'd never experienced anything like this before.

* * *

The following summer, they were still courting, dating, whatever word someone wanted to stamp it with. She had wanted to be sure they weren't rushing into anything and he was willing to go as slow as she wanted if it meant she'd stay with him.

It was a Friday night near the end of June and to celebrate her new promotion at work he had surprised her with takeaway from a new Thai restaurant that had opened around the corner from her flat.

He sat the bag on her table and handed her a small package, which she opened with an eyebrow raised.

"Just a little congratulatory gift."

She tore open the paper that was printed with donuts with turquoise icing. Inside was a set of new summer pajamas consisting of yellow shorts and a matching t-shirt with a large cartoon vampire with "Let's Sparkle" stamped in glittery letters. She burst out laughing as she read it.

"Please tell me that your father was with you when you bought this."

"Do you want him picking out your clothing?"

Hermione blushed. "Absolutely not. I just thought he would find it obnoxious and very Muggle. His expression would have been priceless."

"They're from a Muggle shop I discovered a few weeks ago. And I might have gotten myself a mobile this week so that I can call you when I'm away next on assignment instead of trying to send owls from Merlin knows where."

"Well aren't you clever."

"I tend to think so," he winked.

She pulled him down and kissed him soundly on the lips. He tried to keep going, but in vain.

"Food first, snogging later."

"Fine..." He put his hands up in defeat.

As he unpacked the bag, he gave her a mischievous grin.

"You should come tomorrow for breakfast and wear them."

"Only if you plan on filming his reaction."

"But of course."

"Well, in that case I would so hate to miss the chance to irritate him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading all the way to the end! I've kicked around the idea of a little epilogue, but I don't have anything written down just yet. Would anyone like one or was this final enough? Continued apologies to those who wanted a HEA with Dolohov. I promise that I didn't set out to write a Dramione, but it happened anyway.. Thank you to everyone for your patience with this story. I'm still rather new to writing FF, but it's been a fun way to get back into creative writing that goes longer than one page! Much love to you all!


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